The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XVI 80
Weak in character, with more heart than intellect, she knew only how to love and to weep. Her husband was a
god and her sons were his angels, so he, knowing to what point he was loved and feared, conducted himself
like all false gods: daily he became more cruel, more inhuman, more wilful. Once when he had appeared with
his countenance gloomier than ever before, Sisa had consulted him about the plan of making a sacristan of
Basilio, and he had merely continued to stroke his game-cock, saying neither yes nor no, only asking whether
the boy would earn much money. She had not dared to insist, but her needy situation and her desire that the
boys should learn to read and write in the town school forced her to carry out the plan. Still her husband had
said nothing.
That night, between ten and eleven o'clock, when the stars were glittering in a sky now cleared of all signs of
the storm of the early evening, Sisa sat on a wooden bench watching some fagots that smouldered upon the
fireplace fashioned of rough pieces of natural rock. Upon a tripod, or tunko, was a small pot of boiling rice
and upon the red coals lay three little dried fishes such as are sold at three for two cuartos. Her chin rested in
the palm of her hand while she gazed at the weak yellow glow peculiar to the cane, which burns rapidly and
leaves embers that quickly grow pale. A sad smile lighted up her face as she recalled a funny riddle about the
pot and the fire which Crispin had once propounded to her. The boy said: "The black man sat down and the
red man looked at him, a moment passed, and cock-a-doodle-doo rang forth."
Sisa was still young, and it was plain that at one time she had been pretty and attractive. Her eyes, which, like
her disposition, she had given to her sons, were beautiful, with long lashes and a deep look. Her nose was
regular and her pale lips curved pleasantly. She was what the Tagalogs call kayumanguing-kaligátan; that is,
her color was a clear, pure brown. In spite of her youthfulness, pain and perhaps even hunger had begun to
make hollow her pallid cheeks, and if her abundant hair, in other times the delight and adornment of her
person, was even yet simply and neatly arranged, though without pins or combs, it was not from coquetry but
from habit.
Sisa had been for several days confined to the house sewing upon some work which had been ordered for the
earliest possible time. In order to earn the money, she had not attended mass that morning, as it would have
taken two hours at least to go to the town and return: poverty obliges one to sin! She had finished the work
and delivered it but had received only a promise of payment. All that day she had been anticipating the
pleasures of the evening, for she knew that her sons were coming and she had intended to make them some
presents. She had bought some small fishes, picked the most beautiful tomatoes in her little garden, as she
knew that Crispin was very fond of them, and begged from a neighbor, old Tasio the Sage, who lived half a
mile away, some slices of dried wild boar's meat and a leg of wild duck, which Basilio especially liked. Full
of hope, she had cooked the whitest of rice, which she herself had gleaned from the threshing-floors. It was
indeed a curate's meal for the poor boys.
But by an unfortunate chance her husband came and ate the rice, the slices of wild boar's meat, the duck leg,
five of the little fishes, and the tomatoes. Sisa said nothing, although she felt as if she herself were being
eaten. His hunger at length appeased, he remembered to ask for the boys. Then Sisa smiled happily and
resolved that she would not eat that night, because what remained was not enough for three. The father had
asked for their sons and that for her was better than eating.
Soon he picked up his game-cock and started away.
"Don't you want to see them?" she asked tremulously. "Old Tasio told me that they would be a little late.
Crispin now knows how to read and perhaps Basilio will bring his wages."
This last reason caused the husband to pause and waver, but his good angel triumphed. "In that case keep a
peso for me," he said as he went away.
Sisa wept bitterly, but the thought of her sons soon dried her tears. She cooked some more rice and prepared