Chapter 15: Cage
Happy as a lark- that would have aptly described my mood as I walked away from the warehouse. In my satchel was a crisp one-thousand-dollar bill and a five-hundred-dollar bill. I was paid in cash—1,500 US dollars, the equivalent of 3,000 Mexican pesos- 50% of the total payment for the abaca. I was promised the other 1,500 dollars before the end of the month.
I was told there would be no problem exchanging the dollar, as it was a highly sought-after currency. And with the Spanish Empire declining, the dollar would only grow stronger against the peso. If I maintained good relations with the Americans, I could have not only a stable trading partnership but also a highly profitable one.
While I was busy with the transaction, the day had progressed to midday. The port was now even busier, and the day was starting to warm beyond comfort. The traffic was thickest at the port exit, where dockworkers came in and out to Aduana Street. With the deal done, I was to meet Isidro and Vicente at a hotel in Binondo.
I exhaled sharply, anticipating the heat as I prepared to insert myself into the large crowd pouring in and out of the gate.
Before I could, I heard shouts in English to make way. American soldiers emerged from the traffic, carrying several crates and what looked like a cage. I would not have taken a second look were it not for the odd reaction the cage elicited from the crowd. Some were confused, some were angry, and a few were amused.
I assumed it was an exotic animal. Even in Vietnam, I had personally seen several exotic wildlife specimens being shipped to the US. One of my superior officers had even tasked me once with sneaking a macaque into the cargo.
I stopped to watch their procession pass by until I got a better look at what was in the cage. It was a primate... more specifically, a young female Homo sapiens, in other terms, a young human girl. The girl, probably no older than eight, wore the tribal clothing of the Igorots, an indigenous tribe that lived in the mountains of the north.
During my younger years, during my stay in Manila and the nearby provinces, I had made several purchases of very cheap produce from the Igorot tribesmen. They were a friendly and smiley folk who did not deserve to be placed in a cage.
"What are you doing?" I blurted out in English, with a heavy Filipino accent.