Somehow, I was more nervous the second time.
While I waited in the silence of the anteroom, my legs wouldn't stop shaking. Maybe because I didn't expect to be returning so soon, and my mind hadn't yet transitioned from the stress-free days I spent in Calumpit. Or maybe because I knew I would be heartbroken if my request was denied—even if I myself considered it already a lost cause.
It didn't help that I was there alone. Trivino had decided he would go back with me to Marinduque and so wanted to spend more time with his parents while we were in Bulacan. Dimalanta accompanied me to the doorstep of the convent right before a captain took him away for an errand. Colonel Ola was there to welcome me back again, but he too was busy and only entertained me for a few minutes.
In fact, the whole of Malolos was busy. You could see the sense of urgency in the increased number of soldiers on the streets and in the barracks, and the faster, thicker traffic of supply wagons and workers. On my way to the Barasoain Church, I caught a few conversations openly talking about an incoming war. Youthful soldiers were throwing around casual jokes about wanting to slaughter Americans.
There was another spirit that had taken hold of the town, and it made me uneasy.
My heart almost jumped out of my chest when I heard a door creak open. I immediately looked in the direction of the president's office. One of the Kawit guards gave me a puzzled look—it was the door to the corridor that had opened.
I was expecting Colonel Ola, but who arrived was someone better.
Paz Tiongson carried a small platter containing a cup and a plate of cookies. She scanned the room until her eyes found me. Like a butterfly hovering down to a flower, a smile descended on her pink lips.
My heart was beating more wildly now, even though I suddenly felt more comfortable. I suspected it was because it had been a while since I had seen a pretty lady. Trivino's village, although it was in many ways charming, was lacking in that department.
"Señorita," I rose to meet her and intended to take the platter off her, but she refused to let go. We ended up placing it on the table together.
"How was Calumpit, Gobernador?" she asked me, as she awkwardly tried to hold eye contact—and failed.
"It was beautiful, Señorita," I said as I picked up the cup of coffee. At the first sip, I could already feel the caffeine doing its work. "Though not as beautiful as you."
I realized I had spoken my thoughts, and in the moments that followed, fervently prayed she would take it as one of those casual flatteries thrown around in cultured company. I internally sighed when it looked like she did.
Paz responded with soft laughter. "It is indeed a nice place, Don Lardizabal. A relative of ours has a hacienda there near the Bagbag River. I used to visit it as a kid."
"Then you should consider visiting again… now that you are better," I said, noticing how her eyes seemed to glisten as she reminisced. Her illness had made her a bird trapped in a cage, and I reckoned it would be a beautiful sight to see her take flight again.
She gave me a tight-lipped smile that summoned dimples on her cheeks. "I… I will think on it."
She headed for the exit, and just as she did so, the door to the president's office opened. That pleasant feeling brought in by Paz was promptly chased away along with her out of the room.
It was Heneral Torres who peered out and told me that the president was ready to receive me. At once, I had a bad feeling. It was Torres who had expressly disliked my idea about Marinduque, and I might have also hurt his pride during that conversation about entrenchments.
As I stood at the center of the office, facing the mahogany desk and in front of President Aguinaldo, Señor Mabini, and Heneral Torres, the nervousness reintroduced itself.
Both the president and his advisor greeted me with a smile. But unlike during our first meeting, it didn't help my nerves.
I realized how badly I wanted an independent military command and how invested I had become in the Filipino cause. If I were to make an impact on the future of this country, I would need that much authority. Anything less, and I would be as good as a helpless spectator.
"We have thought about your request, Gobernador," said Aguinaldo after what seemed like forever, "and we think that Marinduque is indeed too small to support an independent military command."
My heart sank. I glanced at Heneral Torres and hated the smile on his face that seemed to taunt me. The president was basically repeating what he had said to me that day.
But maybe the hate was misplaced. Why am I allowing myself to be this sorely disappointed, when I already knew refusal was very likely? After all, I had done terribly trying to build my case to the president.
"For that reason, I have a suggestion, Gobernador," said Aguinaldo as he crossed his hands in front of him.
There was a flicker of hope, but I was more confused than encouraged by the statement. "Yes… Señor Presidente?"
"Incorporate the islands of Mindoro and Romblon, and you can have your independent military command," the president answered. "Altogether, they could give you enough manpower and resources to form a brigade."
It took a while before I could process what he had just said. Mindoro and Romblon were the islands to the west and south of Marinduque, and more or less, were just as isolated and underdeveloped.
"What do you mean?" I blurted out.
"What I am suggesting is the formation of the Distrito Militar de Marinduque, Mindoro y Romblon," the president studied my face. "And if you are up for the daunting task... I can give you command of it."
Unifying Marinduque was already a tall order; managing Mindoro and Romblon on top of that—daunting was the proper descriptor.
At first, I was overwhelmed into silence. Then, I was thrilled at the thought of the new possibilities that came along with the herculean task.
I didn't know how I'd pull it off—but I knew I had to try.