After a while Don left Ted down in the dungeons; then he walked to the Cathedral; and from there somewhere else. Intramuros hadn’t been rebuilt yet; though the squatters, the prostitutes, and the pimps who had once worked and lived there had all been cleared out, with Emelda taking the credit. So the streets and the clean lots were basically empty. It was all slowly being restored, as money became available.
Continuing his walk Don saw, waiting outside the Church of San Agustin, a bride and her father and her maids of honor…the bride who was dressed in a tradition white satin dress and her maids of honor in dresses that matched hers. The bride bore a striking resemblance to the young Filipina who had come up to him in the patio- hotel restaurant overlooking the Sulu Sea and what led to the unfortunate circumstances that to that day he regretted. Then too, he supposed that just as Ted had been guilty of a lapse of judgement he also was entitled to make a mistake or two.
He decided on the spur of the moment that he would find himself a prostitute, and he knew where to look. So that was when he crossed over the river and went into Santa Cruz. He hadn’t told anyone about the young woman in Zamboaga and, when he next met Ted, wouldn’t say anything about having a tryst with a prostitute. He didn’t want anyone to see him and kept his head bent down low. When he thought about it later, he felt as if he had betrayed himself. It sullied him, as it were, and made his job even more difficult.
Ted and Susan had been in the Peace Corps for almost a year and a half. And then they heard, in a round about way, that they weren’t going to place any more volunteers in Manila. It hadn’t “worked out” for “some” people. It wasn’t what most people would call a Peace Corps experience. Ted and Susan didn’t really know what that meant. Ted had always been happy with his placement; and he had always assumed that Susan was happy where she was.
After the nine-day siege of the university, Ted reappeared on campus again, looking for people he knew, primarily Elaine and Nick. Over and over again he heard stories about the nine days, and the “lull” that broke it. He had thought about submitting his resignation, but they were not yet half way through the spring semester. So, feeling obligated, he taught his classes, just as he had before the take-over. This and his normal schedule at the fort kept him too busy to worry. Then police came and questioned Nick. Ted didn’t learn about it until afterwards. He said, “It made me think. This isn’t my battle, and yet I’m here. Nick has put everything on the line, and, if I were in his shoes, I think I would do the same thing?” The big question for him though was ‘what did he stand for?’ Would he march? Would he protest? Would he riot? Or would he not? In all fairness to Ted, he always thought he would. (Susan told him later, “I always used to think that if you were ever called up, you’d willingly go. And knowing you could be killed, if you weren’t luckily enough. But I used to think that when I was pretty sure they wouldn’t draft you. I always assumed the Peace Corp would offer us cover.”)
Elaine had always been careful about which demonstration she joined, Nick said; that was why he didn’t worry so much about her. He had told her what to do if he ever disappeared, indicating that he knew that that was very much a possibility. Some militants had already been arrested. People shouldn’t think that that couldn’t happen to them. He repeated that to her three or four days before he was arrested. And when he disappeared, and the Constabulary, the Army, or the Police refused to give her any information, and she finished screaming, Elaine camped out in front of Camp Aguinaldo and refused to eat.