The Undercover Lover of Manila

By Jonathan Foe

A historical drama and gay love story set during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, 1943. Poverty was wreaking havoc on the nation. Roger, a homosexual young man, works in the family owned canteen in Manila. He reluctantly agrees to sell his body to help his family. The Huk, an anti-Japanese guerrilla group, recruit Roger to spy on a Japanese army officer. He becomes a sort of mistress for this officer, and gains valuable information used by the group. At the same time, Roger falls in love with another young man named Jose. Ordinary life in Manila and the province is presented, as well as his happy affair with Jose. Yet because of his spying, Roger is put through much agony and adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jonathan Foe
• Release date: Nov 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463248829

Jonathan Foe

I am a history teacher in Manila, having taught both in college and in High School. I moved here from the United States in 1993. I teach Philippine and World History, and recieved a PhD in 2014 from the University of Sto Tomas. I research my novels so that they are historically accurate, and try to present a gay positive theme.I am currently making my last two books into audio books, through Findaway Voices.If you have comments or concerns, negative or positive, please contact me at [e-mail]

Book preview

Preface

The Philippine Islands had been an American colony before World War Two. Promised independence in 1944, the Philippines was prosperous and self-confident. Protected by the American and Philippine military, generally the colony was confident of the future.

Hours after Pearl Harbor was attacked, the Japanese bombed the archipelago. As an American colony, the Philippines was a target of Japanese expansion. After a heroic defense of the Bataan Peninsula, this military surrendered to the Japanese in 1942. This left only guerrilla bands fighting Japan. The Huk were a group of fighters in Central Luzon, above Manila. The nation suffered dishonor and deprivation during this occupation. The comfort women were only one of many indignities. The Japanese allowed the Philippines limited independence under President Laurel, and this was known as puppet republic because it served at the mercy of the invaders. The Americans under Douglas MacArthur returned to Manila in March 1945.

Chapter 1 A Proposal

Roger took away a plate and glass, and wiped down the counter for the next customer, and quickly glanced up. All seats were taken in the small cafeteria, and he was the only one servicing the customers.

Hello sir, what will it be today?

The man looked him up and down with a smile, and replied, You look good. Tell me what you have.

Just what’s up here on the menu sir. It’s only lugaw or palabok. You choose.

Nothing else to offer me? The man kept smiling at him as in a daze. Roger ignored it. Give a suggestion.

Oh, since it’s cool tonight, I’d chose lugaw with the chicken.

But isn’t lugaw always got chicken?

"Yes, but times are hard sir. So the deluxe has one fourth cup chicken meat added for an extra ten centavos.

Ahh, ok, that’s what I’ll have then.

Yes sir, coming up.

Two people wanted more water, and another wanted to bill out. Sometimes business in the canteen was busy like now, and other times, it was completely dead. He watered two new customers, and fortunately another customer gave exact change of ten centavos for his lugaw. Roger was running short of the little banknotes, the so-called Micky Mouse Money.

Roger then took off the lid of the simmering big pot, and filled a bowl with lugaw, and added the one-fourth cup of chopped chicken on top, and garnished it with chopped up baby onions and black pepper, and placed it in front of the man. He got out a glass, filled it with water, and handed the glass and spoon to the customer. The man smiled again, so Roger smiled back, and then signaled with his thumb that he was busy, and went back to the other customers.

There were no vacant seats, and there was a man and a woman waiting their turn to sit down. Yet it was raining, 9:30pm, a curfew at midnight, and most had no money, so it should have been quiet. Instead it was lively.

The café had a stainless steel counter top, with twelve seats. It was very accessible to passerby, since the counter was shaped like a U, with the opening of the U facing the family’s apartment in the back. One large acacia tree on the sidewalk kept the place cool. A small waist high gate helped keep away beggars and thieves. When the canteen closed, they just slid across a sliding metal gate. It was a popular place, especially since the customers could keep an eye on the street while they ate.

Roger was the cook, waiter, cashier and dishwasher all in one. Thank goodness he had plenty of lugaw to last until midnight, while there was enough sauce and noodles to last at least 15 more orders of palabok. Roger’s older brother and wife, part of the Benedito family, had simplified their old restaurant, and made it more efficient and affordable for these hard times.

The electricity went out, which was a common event. It always irritated him because Roger liked the music played on KZRH, which was classical. At least it was music, compared to nothing at all. The fan also stopped, and it got warm. He cursed under his breath. Shit, he thought, why does it happen just when we are busy?

Although it was dark, he knew just where his matches and spare candle was. He went over, and struck the match, and lit the candle. Ladies and gentlemen, those evil American submarines have torpedoed our power lines. Please stand by!

The customers always laughed when he said this, after all, how can a submarine torpedo a power supply on land? It calmed them down, while he pulled down the cord that held the kerosene lamp up. He checked for fuel, pumped up the lamp, and then stuck a burning match onto the wick. Light was restored, and a few customers clapped. He pulled it back up so the lantern was out of the way again. Many of the neighboring businesses were still wrapped in darkness, and the light always help pull in people.

Roger’s admirer, still sat in his stool, and asked for a place to smoke. Roger said not at the counter, and directed him to the sidewalk, promising that he would save his seat. Smiling, the man said great, and asked about the coffee on the sign. Roger said he was about to set up the percolator, and that it will be ready soon after his cigarette.

By the time the man came back, the percolator was thumping, and the man asked, What do you have to go with the coffee?

Sir, we got pan de coco, and we got cooked banana in sugar juice. Would you like it?

Pan de coco, that would be great, two please.

Roger handed over the coffee, with a container of light brown sugar. You don’t have milk do you boy?

Oh no, the cows stayed in the USA. Remember those torpedoes sir, he said with a straight face.

Ahh yes, we are now self-sufficient, why aren’t we! And those Americans aren’t selling us their rancid surplus milk!

Yes, exactly sir! Your pan de coco. As Roger leaned over to pass the bread over, the man discreetly touched Roger’s nipple with the back of his fingers. This was easy to do, for Roger was just wearing a loose sando and his nipples stuck out a little bit. Even if it done subtly, Roger was still a bit surprised by the boldness of it. However, no one else at the counter seemed to notice. Roger smiled with embarrassment.

Roger turned his back to the customer and collected his thoughts. The customer was in off-white high-waisted slacks, with a geometric pattern short sleeve shirt. Looked snazzy, thought Roger. Especially making him look rich was he was just a little on the chubby side. Nowadays, 18 months into the Japanese occupation, it was unusual to see any Filipino with any fat cells except the rich. The nation had gone on a diet.

The man looked good, with fair skin and a blemish free face, a bit chubby cheeks, nice black eyebrows, and long fingers on his hands. Perhaps about 35 years old. He didn’t look outwardly bakla—a male homosexual. Instead, although a little soft spoken, seemed a normal man. And he clearly, he seemed taken by Roger. And Roger usually didn’t like older men, but perhaps this man would be an exception. What was strange though, was that the man seemed quite certain that Roger was either a willing male, or bakla himself. After all, most homosexuals would never make such an open pass at unfamiliar male, yet this one did. He might be pushy, aggressive. It was hard to tell.

Strange too, that this man remained sitting down, keeping his eye on Roger. In the Benedito canteen, customers did not stick around long. They usually ate and left, but this customer just sat there admiring him. Finally, there was a chance to talk to the man, since there was no longer anyone beside him.

Roger leaned over the counter to talk quietly to the man. Sir, can I get you anything else? I’m worried that you might get stuck here past the midnight curfew.

Well, as long as I was here with you, it’s ok.

Oh no sir, you are wrong, at curfew I close this place down, and go back to sleep with my family in the back, Roger said pointing his thumb backwards.

Isn’t there someplace we could go nearby?

We? You and me sir? Sir, I don’t have any money. And look at me, I just have a sando and shorts.

Don’t you have long pants and a shirt in the back? Nothing fancy, just that.

Yes, but I don’t have money.

Look boy, I will pay for everything, even for your time.

Roger now paused, and smiled in embarrassment. Things were now becoming clear. Just a second, let me take care of this new customer. Roger pointed vaguely in the direction of the latest arrival.

The new customer wasn’t so new. She was one of the many prostitutes in the area, a bakla named Daniela, who dressed as a woman. Daniela catered to males on a budget. She looked and acted like a girl, but her plumbing was male, and she gave good service, so her customers claimed. She looked thin, but she made up for it with graceful movements and good posture. And while Roger was getting her water, she gave a thumbs up to the bakla customer, who gave a quick nod and a smile.

Aha! Now Roger knew what was going on. He just got a referral. The prostitute must have suggested him to the man. Perhaps the man had wanted not a girlish looking bakla, but someone masculine. A referral hadn’t happened before, but it did now.

Should Roger accept? He had never stepped so low getting paid for sex. Yet the Benedito family could use the extra income, since the canteen could hardly support their family. Besides, thought Roger, getting paid for services was not making himself a prostitute. It was just this one time.

Roger went back to the customer, and asked in a low voice, Sir, your first name is?

Just call me Felix. And you are?

Oh, I am Roger Benedito. Everyone on the street knows me, because I am always here, six days a week working at night. By the way sir, there is a hotel on the next block, and once inside, we can stay there until the morning. They have a bar, and it is safe.

As in not raided by the Japanese?

Yes, not raided, and the staff does not gossip either.

The name?

’The Kababayan’ hotel. Just on our left sir.

Perfect. That sounds great. I can be out all night. I don’t have work at the office tomorrow.

Ok, but sir, can I just ask, you will treat me? For really I have no money.

It’s ok, I will treat you, and give you money for your services.

Hey that’s great! Thank you, sir Felix. But now, I must get back to work. You can stay right there if you want.

I will have another cigarette Roger. You do what you need to do.

Ok, please be patient. We can be out of here in soon, by 12:20am and then we go to the hotel. If you want to read the newspaper, you can to pass the time.

So Felix sat down to read the Tribune, the only newspaper on sale. He called Roger over, reading,

What Japan has done is unprecedented in our history. For 400 years, we and our neighbors in Southeast Asia have suffered under the yoke of Western Powers of wealth. Like a bolt from the blue, Japan has shown us, as well as the entire world, the spirit of Orientalism, when vitalized by patriotic vitality and determination, is capable of defeating even the greatest money power in history.

What a bunch of crap! All of our wealth and dignity has been taken by the Japs!

Roger whispered to his customer. Hey Felix, keep your voice down. There might be pro-Japanese puppets here.

Yeah, sorry, it just pisses me off, Felix said in a quieter voice. And here, it says that the rationing system is a great success, complaints to the contrary.

Oh gosh, how can a rationing system work when there is no food to ration?

Good point Roger. But you get back to cleanup. I don’t want to disturb you.

While Roger was serving his last customers, a boy came up through the gate, and tried to sell the patrons a watch. This was not unusual, since in these times, everyone was buying, selling or doing barter. A few were getting rich, but most just wanted food.

He caused a minor commotion, since evidently it was a Rolex. The boy showed it around to four people, including Felix, who seemed interested. Roger was suspicious, and went over to where Felix was eyeing the watch. The price was cheap, 100 pesos. Roger gently took it from Felix’s hands, and examined it, and let out a hoot of laughter.

Rolec That’s what it says on the front! It is a fake! You stupid kid, get out of here, with your bad fake goods!" The customers wanted to look at it again, and everyone laughed, except of course for the boy trying to sell the watch. He left downcast.

At about 11:15pm near the time when the last customer would be served, a matrona entered. She was about forty years old, and had on nice clothes of silk, and moved with elegance. She used her umbrella as a showman used their cane, with a certain flair. They were American style clothes, a body-hugging dress, knee length, with nice slippers. No expensive jewelry though, perhaps afraid that someone might try to steal it. Or perhaps, she had already sold it. Her skin was a bit sagging, but she too was trying to sell her body. Roger found it sad, that a woman of prestige before the war, and now a fallen woman.

Felix discreetly called Roger over, and whispered, I knew her, a little bit, before the war. She has a nice house in Ermita.

Roger added, Many women have fallen on hard times. Maybe her husband was rounded up by the Japanese, their wealth taken. It happens a lot. And now, a bad situation.

Yes, forced to work on the streets. Very gloomy. At least she has some flair.

Yes, my dad lost his job. Lucky for us, we still have our business. But let me continue sir.

Ok, don’t worry Roger. We will have fun together later.

Yes, we will.

Even if many of the regular customers were prostitutes, the topic was not openly discussed. Some of customers might guess Roger was bakla, although his body was lean, wide shoulders that seemed to pop out of his sando. Yet his face was soft, his voice quiet, hips wide, and his movements gave him away. Roger’s friends and family knew of his preference, but he didn’t openly advertise it. That’s what made the appointment with Felix unusual.

Roger worked efficiently, and the place cleaned up by 12:15am. He discreetly put some Purico vegetable shortening into an empty match box and put it in his bag. In the living area, Roger wiped down his chest, crotch and armpits with a wet cloth. He changed into long pants and put a shirt on over the sando. Roger quietly woke up his older brother to tell him he was going out and be back in the morning, and that he would lock the sliding gate. The kuya, or older brother, told him to be careful, and went back to sleep. Then with Felix beside him, he slid the gate across the storefront and padlocked it. Now they were on the sidewalk.

Roger put his hand on companion’s shoulder. Ok Felix, now the Kababayan is just a short distance, in fact you can see on the next corner. But, if we hear a car coming, we run for that hotel. Any car we hear is likely to be police or patrol, so we need to be inside the hotel if they pass by. Ok?

Yes, I understand, let’s hope that doesn’t happen. We should walk fast!

Yes, we would have a good excuse if caught, but still, most of these cops are idiots. I don’t want to get tortured.

Me too Roger. This place has a bar that is still open?

Oh yes, and it’s a quiet bar, and they usually have a guitarist or something there. Beer there is twenty centavos, not too bad, and if you want to go cheaper, there are Tanduay or Ginebra drinks. Those go for only thirty centavos.

You are an expert Roger!

Well, I have to watch my money carefully. If I have a friend with me, we go there after my shift. But we only order one drink, and just hang out there. It is an expensive place.

Well, don’t worry tonight, I will pay for us. With that, Felix gave a light tap to Roger’s butt. Roger took it as a hint.

They both had to make a ten-meter dash into the hotel, for they saw car lights approaching them about four blocks away. The lobby was dim, for it lit with only a kerosene lamp. The brownout was widespread. Felix reserved a room, while Roger looked around the place. It wasn’t a fancy lobby, had some upholstered chairs near the window, two-bathroom signs, with dark brown wood with shelves behind the front desk.

They went behind the lobby and into the back bar, where there was a guitarist playing Spanish classical guitar. It was a bit dark inside as well, perhaps for the benefit of the guests who did not want to be readily recognized. During the day it was probably the hotel’s restaurant, and was nice since it overlooked a small garden under a tree. This had flagstones, still a little bit wet from the evening rain. One dim kerosene lamp lit up the garden, and the two sat outside where it was cooler.

You know Roger, I consider myself lucky to be where I am now. My money is holding out ok, I’m eating ok, and I have money to hear first class entertainment. I’ve seen this guitarist before. He is from Manila Symphony Orchestra, and usually he would be playing at the Metropolitan Opera House. But here he is, playing first class music in a second-class place for third class prices. Amazing.

I feel lucky too, but still it’s so hard for me and my family. I used to be a Philippine Normal student in English. And now look at me. But, if you look at the positive side, yes, at least I have work, and my family pays me a bit for my work. We are not hungry, even if our food is often lugaw and palabok!

Yes, many are worse off than you are. And many fallen. Like that rich older lady at your canteen a little bit ago. Sad for a woman her age and position to sell her body.

Yes, it is pitiful. At least for me, I’m just a boy, at least I’m not a girl. That would be disgraceful. But I would never rely on this sort of thing, like you know, tonight. I really work in the canteen, not on the streets.

Is this your first time Roger?

Well, the first time going out with a fellow who’s paying for me. But of course, I’ve had sex before with guys.

The waiter interrupted them. Felix ordered two San Miguel beers, and Roger had a double shot rum and calamansi juice.

"Thank you for being so frank Roger. Can I ask, you usually go on top, or go on the bottom?

It depends, but usually bottom. But let me guess, I think you want a bottom.

Yes! How did you figure me out?

If you had wanted a boy as a top, they are in every barrio. And you could have had a girlish bakla easily, but instead you asked Daniella for a masculine bakla.

Correct! replied Felix with a smile.

I saw the glances between you both at the canteen.

I was trying to be discreet.

I see everything! Also, the way you tapped my butt just a minute ago.

Is that ok?

Yeah, it’s funny since every homo knows what that tap means. It’s ok though. And look, here are the two drinks! Mabuhay! Let us toast to friendship!

Just as they finished a swallow, in walked two Japanese officers escorted by a waiter. They moved to the garden, beyond earshot and behind Felix. The bar hushed for a minute, even the guitar player stopped for ten seconds. But then the music started again, and the patrons started to whisper. The two talked quietly.

Why are they here? asked Roger.

They probably want to relax and drink, just like us.

Do you want to leave or something Felix?

Oh no, we aren’t doing anything wrong. So, we’ve got nothing to be afraid of.

Maybe they were the car headlights that we saw a when we came in.

Probably. Glad we made it in on time. Looks like that tall one is an officer, maybe a major or something, suggested Felix.

Yeah, the other one, the smaller one looks like a lieutenant. But really I’m not good on identifying Japanese.

Me neither. The less I have to deal with them the better it is.

My thoughts exactly Felix. We must go through stupid checkpoints, and bow, and that is bad enough. My kuya was even slapped once.

Yes, it is degrading. And that is what they want. To degrade us.

My dad was badly injured by them, and my sister abused. I try not to think about revenge.

Yes, don’t think about revenge, cautioned Felix, holding his palm upright. You will just lose your life, slowly and painfully at Fort Santiago. Tortured to death."

Yes, besides how am I going to do it? They have guns, while the only thing I have is a kitchen knife. But look, the Japanese are offering a toast.

Felix looked quickly behind with the glass of beer in his hand. Kanpai! said the Japanese, and Felix and Roger followed with their glasses in the air, but not really smiling, murmuring Kanpai as well.

The less interaction the better, suggested Felix.

I agree, but the Japanese guy is looking at me. Sort of smiling.

Give a faint smile back, and I will move a little so I am in the way of eye contact. Better now?

Yeah, perfect. He is looking away now.

Maybe he found you cute.

Many guys do! Aha!

But you are cute. Your chest is wide, and firm, and those shoulders are straight across!

But my chest is nearly like a coat hanger. The front you can see it, the side view nearly invisible. I’m just full of bones.

Roger, it is good looking. And the nose, sharp, and those big almond shaped eyes with the thick eyebrows and long eye lashes. Bat them for me.

Roger blinked, pushing his chin down and coyly looking at Felix.

More intoxicating that this beer! declared Felix. And in the back of that waist, with butt like an apple, it just makes me want to hug it from behind."

Oh no, my Felix, you have big ideas! I hope it won’t hurt too much!

Oh, I’m careful, and will go in slow. Don’t worry my boy.

Are you big down there?

Oh no. I’m like a small pencil.

I bet. This might hurt. I’m not well practiced.

Well I will teach you. The older teaches the young.

How do you know so much about my body?

I watched you at work. Your shorts, even if they are baggy, I can tell these things. Your butt fills out the shorts, and I could look inside the sando pretty easily.

Ok, let’s keep the rest for a surprise, shall we? Otherwise you might get disappointed at the real thing sir, Roger suggested.

Ahh, ok. But you said that you were in Philippine Normal before. What were you studying?

English, although I wanted journalism. I got in for cheap, because I have an aunt as administrator there. But now of course stopped.

Maybe you can start after this whole war is over.

And how long will that be? Roger raised his hands in defeat. Years probably. And my dad, he worked at Heacock’s, but when the Japanese came, they accused him of stealing, even if he wasn’t. So they tried to arrest him, broke his leg, and he went back to our province in Pangasinan. My mom and sister went with him, leaving my older brother and his family and me in the Benedito Canteen.

Ahh, so before you had more money Roger.

Yes, I was a student, only sometimes helping out in the canteen. I had nice clothes, shoes, but now only wooden shoes.

But as you said, at least you have an income.

Yes, at least that is true. But we live at the mercy of the Japanese!

Indeed. Even me, in my job. What if the Japanese military changes their account and drops us as their bank? Most of our branches would close, and I certainly would lose my job. We are at their tolerance, and that is not nice. Everything is temporary. And speaking of which, how are the two officers behind us doing?

Roger casually moved his head. They seem to be enjoying themselves. Just talking, drinking beer. They are ok. But tell me about yourself Felix, suggested the young man. I see a swimmer’s body hidden underneath those clothes.

"Ha! You flatter me. But strangely, yes, I used to swim for De la Salle, but then stopped. And rarely do I get a chance nowadays. So I try to get exercise, but it doesn’t