Chapter 3: Journey to the Dock

As they resumed their journey, Jon saw the poor state of the villagers' houses and the still evident signs of the devastation caused by the recent typhoon. Trees that had their branches torn off by the strong winds were still growing new leaves and in some sections of the road, felled trees were simply moved to the side to give way to the infrequent traffic of trucks and passenger buses. Jorge said that not all of the roads had been cleared of landslide and debris and had they taken the usual route, they would have extended their trip by more than an hour. Fortunately, Jorge knew of an alternate route that led through dirt roads used by farmers bringing their produce to the market.

The province is frequented by typhoons and was the worst hit area when a Category 5 ravaged the region a few months ago.  Warnings had been given by the national weather bureau about the intensity of the typhoon before it struck and meteorologists noted the probability of storm surges. However, the complacency of the people who had seen typhoons ravaging their region a few times annually, along with the lack of proper planning and the ineffective action from local governments, led to multiple fatalities and widespread destruction.

The areas around Cardena Bay are susceptible to storm surges given the geography of the region. Very strong winds from typhoons could drive the water into the bay and inundate the low-lying coastal areas with water. The heavily logged mountains that rose around the coastline could likewise catch the heavy precipitation brought about by typhoons and bring flashfloods to the valleys below. In the past two decades, the area had seen two flashfloods and one particularly deadly storm surge that claimed the lives of thousands of people.

The damage wreaked by the recent supertyphoon was unprecedented and reported by the international media for days. What made matters worse was that the remaining forests in the area saw huge spontaneous fires during the past dry season, lit by the hot temperatures and dry weather. There were reports however that the fires could also be manmade as farmers cleared the land in order to cultivate more crops. With less trees and vegetation, the denuded mountains further lost the capacity to hold soil and water, therefore adding to the destruction.

According to climate scientists, supertyphoons will be more frequent and more powerful in this part of the world and the area will experience typhoons with faster windspeeds and slower translational movement. The slower the typhoon crawls over the area means extended time that it buffets the region with torrential rains and raging wind.

At the height of the recent super typhoon, two evacuation areas were reached by the storm surge while another area at the slope of the mountain was buried by landslide. The tragedy of the storm surge the province experienced two decades ago was relived by the people who were already weary of natural disasters and inadequacy of government support. If not for the aid coming from international agencies and non-governmental organizations, the region would have made little progress in getting back on its feet.

Given so many natural and manmade disasters that had ravaged the province, Jon wondered how people still managed to live there. Looking around him, Jon concluded that the soil seemed fertile for crops to grow and the natural beauty of the sea and landscape could have lured people.

"Have you always lived in Cardena?" Jon wanted to start a conversation with Jorge.

"Not really," came the reply from Jorge whose eyes remained on the road. "I grew up here, but left for Malen the first chance I got. I just had to return a couple of years ago when my father died so that I can take care of my mother. Then, I met my wife and decided to stay."

"Your mother is a very superstitious woman." Jon remarked.

"Everyone here is. They've been through a lot. When anything goes wrong, the first thing that they think about are elemental spirits or some other supernatural entity."

"Your mother seemed disturbed that I was going to Orsica. She made some gestures with her hands when you mentioned that I was going to the island."

Jorge snorted. "That's what folks do around here. Scare each other with stories and superstitions. They do not like Orsica. They would always say they have one ancestor or a relative of a friend or some neighbor that perished when they sailed close to the island. How they knew it was the island that caused it beats me. I do know that the waters around the island can be quite treacherous, especially during bad weather. Rather than blaming the incompetence of their relatives or stupidity for going out to sea during bad weather, they would rather blame some supernatural being."

Jon nodded slowly. The car stopped to let a farmer and his son guide two carabaos across the road. A dog encircled them excitedly, its tail wagging. Jon waited for Jorge to resume driving before asking, "Have you been to Orsica yourself?"

Jorge glanced at Jon and spoke, "It's private property you know. You can't just go and invite yourself in. I was able to sail around it when I was young."

"And how did it go?"

"Well, it was a stupid dare with some of my friends. We have been always told by the elders to stay away from the island so the opposite was exactly what we did."

"What did you see?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. There were plenty of breakers which could have sunk larger boats and the strong under currents could catch any inexperienced swimmer. I can also imagine whole ships sinking to murky depths as the water can get really deep on the eastern side of the island."

"That's not out of the ordinary?" said Jon smiling.

Jorge glanced at Jon again and chuckled. "For four teenage boys who grew up swimming and sailing around the islands, it wasn't that special. I guess we were expecting something strange and fantastical to happen given the endless warnings and stories told about Orsica. When nothing happened, we just saw the island as something ordinary. After that, we considered ourselves as adults and could no longer be scared by stories and superstitions about the island."

"A rite of passage of sorts." remarked Jon.

"You can say that," replied Jorge.

They were silent for a few minutes and Jon looked at the trees they passed by. There were ancient trees covered by moss and lichen that could well be more than a century old.

"How well do you know Dante?" Jon broke the silence.

"Ha! I can't really say that I know him. He is just the man who pays me for my services." Jorge steered the wheel to avoid a large pothole.

"Don't you talk to Dante?" continued Jon when they cleared the pothole.

"I haven't seen him nor heard him. No one has, except his servants who by the way also rarely talk to me."

"How did you end up getting this job? Who pays you?" Jon felt like a reporter asking his questions.

"I receive instructions through text messages. They are supposed to come from Mr. Dante, but with all his wealth as you say, would you expect him to lift a finger?" Jorge chuckled. "As for the payment, I receive them through mobile payment. I don't need to talk or see them and that suits me very well." Then, Jorge turned to Jon and asked, "You do ask a lot of questions."

Jon shrugged and said, "I ask a lot of questions because I don't know myself who my client is. I do know his name and have seen some of his bank transactions, but even with his wealth, I have not really encountered him nor read about him in the news. Probably one eccentric, rich, and secretive old man."

At this point, they were nearing the sea and Jon could catch glimpses of the dark blue water and the white surf between the trees. The shady trees soon gave way to coconuts that grew on the sandy beach. There were no structures around with the exception of the dock itself.

A lone boat was secured to a mooring and would sometimes drift with the slow movement of the water. It was badly in need of repainting and the blue paint was peeling in some areas. Discarded canvas that used to function as election campaign materials were tied to a beam and the sides of the boat, serving as a roof against the elements.

"Your mother…" Jon began as the car stopped. "Your mother gave me something before I left the hut."

"Let me guess – the necklace of protection," Jorge said, tilting his head.

"Is that what this is called?" asked Jon, taking out the necklace of dried sanaria leaves still redolent of the sweet pleasant smell that first attracted his attention.

"I don't know what it is called to tell you the truth. I don't believe in all of their nonsense. It is meant to ward off evil, especially today. Do you know what day it is?" Jorge asked as he stopped the engine.

"It's the 21st of September," said Jon. "Why do you ask?"

"I didn't want to scare you or anything, but since you asked and I think you're a good man, I might as well tell you. In these parts, today is what we call Day of the Ember Ghost. People do not like to go out during these times, especially out to sea, because they are afraid that they will meet an untimely death. All because of the ember ghost."

"Was that also the reason your mother was so distressed that I am going to Orsica?" asked Jon as he got out of the car. He took off the necklace of sanaria and decided to just keep it in one of the pockets of his luggage.

"I will have to say yes. You see, people believe that on this day, the ember ghost could take on human form to talk to you and entice you into doing something evil. They say that you can only tell that he is not human in the dark because his eyes glow red like embers."

Jon said nothing, but immediately recalled his dream on the airplane. Eyes that glowed red like embers - that was how he would describe what he saw in his dream. He tried to keep his mind off the image and asked Jorge. "How is the ember ghost connected to Orsica?"

They were walking towards the dock and Jorge was looking intently at the sea. He answered without looking at Jon. "They say that Orsica is where the ember ghost lives."