My Father

Goes
to Court
by Carlos S. Bulosan
 When I was four, I lived with my mother and brothers and fistful of silver coins. My brothers threw in their small change.
sisters in a small town on the island of Luzon. Father’s farm had “May I walk to the room across the hall and stay there for a few
been destroyed in 1918 by one of our sudden Philippine floods, minutes, Judge?” Father said.
so several years afterwards we all lived in the town though he “As you wish.”
preferred living in the country. We had as a next door neighbor a “Thank you,” father said. He strode into the other room with the
very rich man, whose sons and daughters seldom came out of hat in his hands. It was almost full of coins. The doors of both
the house. While we boys and girls played and sang in the sun, rooms were wide open.
his children stayed inside and kept the windows closed. His “Are you ready?” Father called.
house was so tall that his children could look in the window of “Proceed.” The judge said.
our house and watched us played, or slept, or ate, when there The sweet tinkle of the coins carried beautifully in the
was any food in the house to eat. courtroom. The spectators turned their faces toward the sound
Now, this rich man’s servants were always frying and with wonder. Father came back and stood before the complaint.
cooking something good, and the aroma of the food was wafted “Did you hear it?” he asked.
down to us form the windows of the big house. We hung about “Hear what?” the man asked.
and took all the wonderful smells of the food into our beings. “The spirit of the money when I shook this hat?” he asked.
Sometimes, in the morning, our whole family stood outside the “Yes.”
windows of the rich man’s house and listened to the musical “Then you are paid,” Father said.
sizzling of thick strips of bacon or ham. I can remember one The rich man opened his mouth to speak and fell to the
afternoon when our neighbor’s servants roasted three chickens. floor without a sound. The lawyer rushed to his aid. The judge
The chickens were young and tender and the fat that dripped pounded his gavel.
into the burning coals gave off an enchanting odor. We watched “Case dismissed.” He said.
the servants turn the beautiful birds and inhaled the heavenly
Father strutted around the courtroom the judge even came down
spirit that drifted out to us.
Some days the rich man appeared at a window and from his high chair to shake hands with him. “By the way,” he
glowered down at us. He looked at us one by one, as though he whispered, “I had an uncle who died laughing.”
were condemning us. We were all healthy because we went out in “You like to hear my family laugh, Judge?” Father asked?
the sun and bathed in the cool water of the river that flowed “Why not?”
from the mountains into the sea. Sometimes we wrestled with “Did you hear that children?” father said.
one another in the house before we went to play. We were My sisters started it. The rest of us followed them soon the
always in the best of spirits and our laughter was contagious.
spectators were laughing with us, holding their bellies and
Other neighbors who passed by our house often stopped in our
yard and joined us in laughter. bending over the chairs. And the laughter of the judge was the
As time went on, the rich man’s children became thin and loudest of all.
anemic, while we grew even more robust and full of life. Our
faces were bright and rosy, but theirs were pale and sad. The
rich man started to cough at night; then he coughed day and
night. His wife began coughing too. Then the children started to
cough, one after the other. At night their coughing sounded like
THE END
the barking of a herd of seals. We hung outside their windows
2 5
 The rich man’s lawyer jumped up and pointed his finger at and listened to them. We wondered what happened. We knew
Father. “Do you or you do not agree that you have been stealing that they were not sick from the lack of nourishment because
the spirit of the complaint’s wealth and food?” they were still always frying something delicious to eat.
“I do not!” Father said. One day the rich man appeared at a window and stood
“Do you or do you not agree that while the complaint’s servants there a long time. He looked at my sisters, who had grown fat in
cooked and fried fat legs of lamb or young chicken breast you laughing, then at my brothers, whose arms and legs were like the
and your family hung outside his windows and inhaled the molave, which is the sturdiest tree in the Philippines. He banged
heavenly spirit of the food?” down the window and ran through his house, shutting all the
“I agree.” Father said. windows.
“Do you or do you not agree that while the complaint and his chil- From that day on, the windows of our neighbor’s house
dren grew sickly and tubercular you and your family became were always closed. The children did not come out anymore. We
strong of limb and fair in complexion?” could still hear the servants cooking in the kitchen, and no
“I agree.” Father said. matter how tight the windows were shut, the aroma of the food
“How do you account for that?” came to us in the wind and drifted gratuitously into our house.
Father got up and paced around, scratching his head One morning a policeman from the presidencia came to
thoughtfully. Then he said, “I would like to see the children of our house with a sealed paper. The rich man had filed a
complaint, Judge.” complaint against us. Father took me with him when he went to
“Bring in the children of the complaint.” the town clerk and asked him what it was about. He told Father
They came in shyly. The spectators covered their mouths the man claimed that for years we had been stealing the spirit of
with their hands, they were so amazed to see the children so thin his wealth and food.
and pale. The children walked silently to a bench and sat down When the day came for us to appear in court, father
without looking up. They stared at the floor and moved their brushed his old Army uniform and borrowed a pair of shoes
hands uneasily. from one of my brothers. We were the first to arrive. Father sat
Father could not say anything at first. He just stood by his on a chair in the center of the courtroom. Mother occupied a
chair and looked at them. Finally he said, “I should like to cross – chair by the door. We children sat on a long bench by the wall.
examine the complaint.” Father kept jumping up from his chair and stabbing the air with
“Proceed.” his arms, as though we were defending himself before an
“Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your wealth and became imaginary jury.
a laughing family while yours became morose and sad?” Father The rich man arrived. He had grown old and feeble; his
said. face was scarred with deep lines. With him was his young lawyer.
“Yes.” Spectators came in and almost filled the chairs. The judge
“Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your food by hanging out- entered the room and sat on a high chair. We stood in a hurry
side your windows when your servants cooked it?” Father said. and then sat down again.
“Yes.” After the courtroom preliminaries, the judge looked at the
“Then we are going to pay you right now,” Father said. He walked Father. “Do you have a lawyer?” he asked.
over to where we children were sitting on the bench and took my “I don’t need any lawyer, Judge,” he said.
straw hat off my lap and began filling it up with centavo pieces
that he took out of his pockets. He went to Mother, who added a “Proceed,” said the judge.

4 3
 The audience was moved by Fabia’s speech. They
applauded and cheered when he was finished. Fabia smiled. He
had done it. He had given his speech, and he had done it well.
After the speech, Fabia met with some of the students.
They asked him questions about his life and his work. Fabia
Scent
answered their questions patiently, and he encouraged them to
follow their dreams.
Later that day, Fabia said goodbye to Santos and Lourdes.
He promised to visit them again soon. He got in his car and
of
drove away, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. He had
come to Kalamazoo a stranger, but he was leaving a friend. He
had come to Kalamazoo with a sense of loss, but he was leaving
with a sense of hope.
Apples
As he drove away, he thought about the scent of apples. by Beinvenido Santos
He would never forget the smell of apples in the Philippines. It
was a smell that was both familiar and foreign, a smell that
reminded him of home and of the challenges he had faced. But it
was also a smell of hope, a smell that reminded him that he
could overcome anything.

THE END

9
 Fabia stepped off the plane in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and “Don’t worry,” Santos said. “You’ll be fine. You’re a great writer,
took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. He had been living in and you have a lot to say.”
the United States for over 20 years, but he still missed the smell Fabia smiled. “Thanks, Ben.”
of the Philippines.
After dinner, they sat in the living room and talked some
He was in Kalamazoo to speak at a college about his more. The scent of apples wafted through the air, and Fabia
experiences as a Filipino immigrant. He had been invited by his closed his eyes, savoring the memories it brought back. He
old friend, Bienvenido Santos, who was also a writer. remembered the summers he had spent in the Philippines,
Fabia took a taxi to Santos’s house. As they drove, he picking apples with his family. He remembered the smell of the
looked out the window at the unfamiliar landscape. The trees apples in the orchard, the taste of the apples on his tongue, and
were already turning color, and the air was filled with the smell the warmth of the sun on his skin.
of apples. “I miss the Philippines,” he said wistfully.
Fabia smiled. He had always loved the smell of apples, but “I know,” Santos said. “But you’ve made a good life for yourself
it was especially strong in the Philippines. In the United States, here.”
apples were a luxury item, and they were only available during
the winter. But in the Philippines, they were abundant and “Yes,” Fabia said. “I have a wife, a son, and a good job. But I still
inexpensive. miss home.”

Fabia arrived at Santos’s house and was greeted by his “I understand,” Santos said. “I miss the Philippines too.”
wife, Lourdes. She gave him a hug and led him into the living They sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.
room. Santos was sitting in a chair, reading a book. Then Fabia said, “I’m glad I came to visit you.”
“Fabia!” he exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you.” “Me too,” Santos said. “It’s been too long.”
Fabia and Santos embraced. They had not seen each other They talked for a while longer, and then Fabia went to bed.
in many years, but they picked up right where they left off. They He lay in bed, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees. He
talked for hours, catching up on their lives and laughing about thought about his speech the next day, and he thought about the
old times. Philippines. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of the
smell of apples.
Later that evening, they sat down to dinner. Lourdes had
made a delicious meal of adobo and rice. As they ate, they talked The next day, Fabia gave his speech. He spoke about his
about Fabia’s upcoming speech. experiences as a Filipino immigrant, the challenges he had faced,
and the successes he had achieved. He spoke about the
“I’m a little nervous,” Fabia admitted. “I’ve never given a speech
importance of family and community, and he spoke about the
in English before.”
power of hope.

7 8
“She looked at the stars, Father. And Manong Leon sang.”

“What did he sing?”

“Sky Sown With Stars… She sang with him.” How My Brother
He was silent again. I could hear the low voices of Mother
and my sister Aurelia downstairs. There was also the voice of my
brother Leon, and I thought that Father’s voice must have been
like it when Father was young. He had laid the roll of tobacco on
the windowsill once more. I watched the smoke waver faintly
upward from the lighted end and vanish slowly into the night
Leon Brought
Home A Wife
outside.

The door opened and my brother Leon and Maria came in.

“Have you watered Labang?” Father spoke to me.

I told him that Labang was resting yet under the barn.
by Manuel Arguilla
“It is time you watered him, my son,” my father said.

I looked at Maria and she was lovely. She was tall. Beside
my brother Leon, she was tall and very still. Then I went out, and
in the darkened hall the fragrance of her was like a morning
when papayas are in bloom.

THE END

19
time. There was light downstairs in the kitchen, and Mother stood She stepped down from the carretela of Ca Celin with a
in the doorway, and I could see her smiling shyly. My brother quick, delicate grace. She was lovely. She was tall. She looked up
Leon was helping Maria over the wheel. to my brother with a smile, and her forehead was on a level with
his mouth.
The first words that fell from his lips after he had kissed
Mother’s hand were: “You are Baldo,” she said and placed her hand lightly on my
shoulder. Her nails were long, but they were not painted. She was
“Father… where is he?” fragrant like a morning when papayas are in bloom. And a small
dimple appeared momently high on her right cheek.
“He is in his room upstairs,” Mother said, her face becoming seri-
ous. “His leg is bothering him again.” “And this is Labang of whom I have heard so much.” She held the
wrist of one hand with the other and looked at Labang, and
I did not hear anything more because I had to go back to the cart
Labang never stopped chewing his cud. He swallowed and
to unhitch Labang. But I hardly tied him under the barn when I
brought up to his mouth more cud and the sound of his insides
heard Father calling me. I met my brother Leon going to bring up
was like a drum.
the trunks. As I passed through the kitchen, there were Mother
and my sister Aurelia and Maria and it seemed to me they were I laid a hand on Labang’s massive neck and said to her:
crying, all of them. “You may scratch his forehead now.”
There was no light in Father’s room. There was no move- She hesitated and I saw that her eyes were on the long,
ment. He sat in the big armchair by the western window, and a curving horns. But she came and touched Labang’s forehead with
star shone directly through it. He was smoking, but he removed her long fingers, and Labang never stopped chewing his cud
the roll of tobacco from his mouth when he saw me. He laid it except that his big eyes half closed. And by and by she was
carefully on the windowsill before speaking. scratching his forehead very daintily.
“Did you meet anybody on the way?” he asked. My brother Leon put down the two trunks on the grassy
side of the road. He paid Ca Celin twice the usual fare from the
“No, Father,” I said. “Nobody passes through the Waig at night.”
station to the edge of Nagrebcan. Then he was standing beside
He reached for his roll of tobacco and hitched himself up in the us, and she turned to him eagerly. I watched Ca Celin, where he
chair. stood in front of his horse, and he ran his fingers through its
forelock and could not keep his eyes away from her.
“She is very beautiful, Father.”
“Maria—” my brother Leon said.
“Was she afraid of Labang?” My father had not raised his voice,
but the room seemed to resound with it. And again, I saw her He did not say Maring. He did not say Mayang. I knew then
eyes on the long curving horns and the arm of my brother Leon that he had always called her Maria and that to us all she would
around her shoulders. be Maria; and in my mind I said ‘Maria’ and it was a beautiful
name.
“No, Father, she was not afraid.”
“Yes, Noel.”
“On the way—”

11 18
 Now where did she get that name? I pondered the matter “You miss the houses, and the cars, and the people and the noise,
quietly to myself, thinking Father might not like it. But it was on- don’t you?” My brother Leon stopped singing.
ly the name of my brother Leon said backward and it sounded
much better that way. “Yes, but in a different way. I am glad they are not here.”

“There is Nagrebcan, Maria,” my brother Leon said, gesturing With difficulty I turned Labang to the left, for he wanted to
widely toward the west. go straight on. He was breathing hard, but I knew he was
thirstier than tired. In a little while we drove up the grassy side
She moved close to him and slipped her arm through his. onto the camino real.
And after a while she said quietly.
“—you see,” my brother Leon was explaining, “the camino re-
“You love Nagrebcan, don’t you, Noel?” al curves around the foot of the Katayaghan hills and passes by
our house. We drove through the fields because—but I’ll be asking
Celin drove away hi-yi-ing to his horse loudly. At the bend Father as soon as we get home.”
of the camino real where the big duhat tree grew, he rattled the
handle of his braided rattan whip against the spokes of the “Noel,” she said.
wheel.
“Yes, Maria.”
We stood alone on the roadside.
“I am afraid. He may not like me.”
The sun was in our eyes, for it was dipping into the bright
sea. The sky was wide and deep and very blue above us: but “Does that worry you still, Maria?” my brother Leon said. “From
along the saw-tooth rim of the Katayaghan hills to the southwest the way you talk, he might be an ogre, for all the world. Except
flamed huge masses of clouds. Before us the fields swam in a when his leg that was wounded in the Revolution is troubling him,
golden haze through which floated big purple and red and yel- Father is the mildest-tempered, gentlest man I know.”
low bubbles when I looked at the sinking sun. Labang’s white We came to the house of Lacay Julian and I spoke to
coat, which I had washed and brushed that morning with coco- Labang loudly, but Moning did not come to the window, so I
nut husk, glistened like beaten cotton under the lamplight and surmised she must be eating with the rest of her family. And I
his horns appeared tipped with fire. He faced the sun and from thought of the food being made ready at home and my mouth
his mouth came a call so loud and vibrant that the earth seemed watered. We met the twins, Urong and Celin, and I said “Hoy!”
to tremble underfoot. And far away in the middle of the field a calling them by name. And they shouted back and asked if my
cow lowed softly in answer. brother Leon and his wife were with me. And my brother Leon
“Hitch him to the cart, Baldo,” my brother Leon said, laughing, shouted to them and then told me to make Labang run; their
and she laughed with him a bit uncertainly, and I saw that he answers were lost in the noise of the wheels.
had put his arm around her shoulders. I stopped Labang on the road before our house and would
“Why does he make that sound?” she asked. “I have never heard have gotten down, but my brother Leon took the rope and told
the like of it.” me to stay in the cart. He turned Labang into the open gate and
we dashed into our yard. I thought we would crash into the bole
“There is not another like it,” my brother Leon said. “I have yet to of the camachile tree, but my brother Leon reined in Labang in

17 12
 Now the shadows took fright and did not crowd so near. hear another bull call like Labang. In all the world there is no
Clumps of andadasi and arrais flashed into view and quickly other bull like him.”
disappeared as we passed by. Ahead, the elongated shadow of
Labang bobbled up and down and swayed drunkenly from side to She was smiling at him, and I stopped in the act of tying
side, for the lantern rocked jerkily with the cart. the sinta across Labang’s neck to the opposite end of the yoke,
because her teeth were very white, her eyes were so full of
“Have we far to go yet, Noel?” she asked. laughter, and there was the small dimple high up on her right
cheek.
“Ask Baldo,” my brother Leon said, “We have been neglecting
him.” “If you continue to talk about him like that, either I shall fall in
love with him or become greatly jealous.”
“I am asking you, Baldo,” she said.
My brother Leon laughed and she laughed and they looked
Without looking back, I answered, picking my words slowly: at each other and it seemed to me there was a world of laughter
“Soon we will get out of the Waig and pass into the fields. After the between them and in them.
fields is home, Manang.” I climbed into the cart over the wheel and Labang would
“So near already.” have bolted, for he was always like that, but I kept a firm hold on
his rope. He was restless and would not stand still, so that my
I did not say anything more because I did not know what to brother Leon had to say “Labang” several times. When he was
make of the tone of her voice as she said her last words. All the quiet again, my brother Leon lifted the trunks into the cart,
laughter seemed to have gone out of her. I waited for my brother placing the smaller on top.
Leon to say something, but he was not saying anything. Suddenly
he broke out into song and the song was ‘Sky Sown With Stars’— She looked down once at her high-heeled shoes, then she
the same that he and Father sang when we cut hay in the fields at gave her left hand to my brother Leon, placed a foot on the hub
night before he went away to study. He must have taught her the of the wheel, and in one breath she had swung up into the cart.
song because she joined him, and her voice flowed into his like a Oh, the fragrance of her. But Labang was fairly dancing with
gentle stream meeting a stronger one. And each time the wheels impatience and it was all I could do to keep him from running
encountered a big rock, her voice would catch in her throat, but away.
my brother Leon would sing on, until, laughing softly, she would “Give me the rope, Baldo,” my brother Leon said. “Maria, sit down
join him again. on the hay and hold on to anything.” Then he put a foot on the
Then we were climbing out into the fields, and through the left shaft and that instant Labang leaped forward. My brother
spokes of the wheels the light of the lantern mocked the Leon laughed as he drew himself up to the top of the side of the
shadows. Labang quickened his steps. The jolting became more cart and made the slack of the rope hiss above the back of
frequent and painful as we crossed the low dikes. Labang. The wind whistled against my cheeks and the rattling of
the wheels on the pebbly road echoed in my ears.
“But it is so very wide here,” she said. The light of the stars broke
and scattered the darkness so that one could see far on every She sat up straight on the bottom of the cart, legs bent
side, though indistinctly. together to one side, her skirts spread over them so that only the
toes and heels of her shoes were visible. Her eyes were on my
13 16
brother Leon’s back; I saw the wind on her hair. “Maria, why do you think Father should do that, now?” He
laughed and added, “Have you ever seen so many stars before?”
When Labang slowed down, my brother Leon handed to me
the rope. I knelt on the straw inside the cart and pulled on the I looked back and they were sitting side by side, leaning
rope until Labang was merely shuffling along, then I made him against the trunks, hands clasped across knees. Seemingly, but a
turn around. man’s height above the tops of the steep banks of the Waig,
hung the stars. But in the deep gorge the shadows had fallen
“What is it you have forgotten now, Baldo?” my brother Leon said. heavily, and even the white of Labang’s coat was merely a dim,
I did not say anything but tickled with my fingers the grayish blur. Crickets chirped from their homes in the cracks in
rump of Labang; and away we went—back to where I had un- the banks. The thick, unpleasant smell of dangla bushes and
hitched and waited for them. The sun had sunk and down from cooling sun-heated earth mingled with the clean, sharp scent
of arrais roots exposed to the night air and of the hay inside the
the wooded sides of the Katayaghan hills shadows were stealing
into the fields. High up overhead the sky burned with many slow cart.
fires. “Look, Noel, yonder is our star!” Deep surprise and gladness were
When I sent Labang down the deep cut that would take us in her voice. Very low in the west, almost touching the ragged
to the dry bed of the Waig which could be used as a path to our edge of the bank, was the star, the biggest and brightest in the
place during the dry season, my brother Leon laid a hand on my sky.
shoulder and said sternly: “I have been looking at it,” my brother Leon said. “Do you re-
“Who told you to drive through the fields tonight?” member how I would tell you that when you want to see stars you
must come to Nagrebcan?”
His hand was heavy on my shoulder, but I did not look at
“Yes, Noel,” she said. “Look at it,” she murmured, half to herself.
him or utter a word until we were on the rocky bottom of the
“It is so many times bigger and brighter than it was at Ermita
Waig.
beach.”
“Baldo, you fool, answer me before I lay the rope of Labang on
you. Why do you follow the Waig instead of the camino real?” “The air here is clean, free of dust and smoke.”

His fingers bit into my shoulder. “So it is, Noel,” she said, drawing a long breath.

“Father, he told me to follow the Waig tonight, Manong.” “Making fun of me, Maria?”

Swiftly, his hand fell away from my shoulder and he reached for She laughed then and they laughed together and she took
the rope of Labang. Then my brother Leon laughed, and he sat my brother Leon’s hand and put it against her face.
back, and laughing still, he said: I stopped Labang, climbed down, and lighted the lantern
“And I suppose Father also told you to hitch Labang to the cart that hung from the cart between the wheels.
and meet us with him instead of with Castano and the calesa.” “Good boy, Baldo,” my brother Leon said as I climbed back into
Without waiting for me to answer, he turned to her and said, the cart, and my heart sang.

15 14