Good. Because readers will want to hear about the bad deeds of their forebears in order to think they’re better. Write it in a way that will make forward-thinking Americans feel good about themselves.

Of course my editor hadn’t actually said that and wouldn’t have. But I had used her to give voice to my deep insecurities about writing anything set in the Philippines for an American audience. I had known people who, when they learned of my Filipino background, launched into ad hoc speeches about the tragedy of human trafficking, or declared that they were really hoping to get a Filipino housemaid, or commented on how lucky I was that my mother had married an American. It was as if the United States still needed the Philippines to be recognizable but savage in the same way that Heart of Darkness needed Africa to make Europe seem enlightened. It was as if the human zoos had accomplished their purpose and Schneidewind had won.

Maybe you can make this a love story, said my editor, sounding more like herself. Give it a happy ending.

And then Graham Greene chimed in and said, Love guarantees a complicated ending because the element of the personal and irrational balanced against the machine of history is what makes a book worth reading. Morality is the spine of fiction, even if it is most often twisted and deformed.

Morality? Love? I kept compiling notes.

XV

XV

It was a Friday and Tita Dom’s daughter, Ali, had arranged tickets for us to go see a play. Her sorority was sponsoring it and all the family members who were willing to go see things—an anemic percentage—were in the minivan headed to Malate. As the writer in the family, I was an obvious participant, as were Tonio, Tita Dom’s youngest son, his wife, Meli, and their son, Luke, who lived next door to Tita Dom and were assumed to show up at anything she sponsored. Ali would be there with a few friends from work as her husband and kids were not people willing to go see things. A late-season typhoon had made landfall to the north and Manila was being pounded with rain. Tita Dom asked Mannie if he thought that the streets would be flooded. I thought it pretty likely that they would be. As we left the Scout area, the water was accumulating, and that area was at a higher elevation than most of Manila.

“I have to tell you,” said Tita Dom, breaking into a giggle, “that I’ve invited your best friend.”

“My best friend?” I sighed. “Laird?”

She nodded.

“Why?”

“I had an extra ticket. Ali bought one for your tita Rosa, and you know she hates plays.”

“Everyone knows Tita Rosa hates plays. Why did Ali buy her a ticket?”

“Because your tita Rosa would have been offended if she hadn’t.”

That was true.