Leaving Davao for Down Under
A hint of what is to come: Jud’s journey has taken an unexpected and emotional turn, filled with questions, revelations, and the possibility of reconciliation. But what else lies ahead for Jud in New Zealand, and how will he handle the discovery of a family secret?
If you find a path with no obstacles, it probably does not lead anywhere.
Harriet Beecher Stowe, 19th century novelist
“There’s not one thing—except the loss of my daughter; no, not even the loss of my daughter—for which I would rather not have been present. I’m happy that I was there for the military coup, that I was present in the terror that came afterward, that I lived in exile, and that I was present when my daughter was sick and when she died. Nobody had to tell me about it, I was there. I would not like to have missed any of the pain or the losses because I like interesting times very much, and I hope that the rest of my life will be interesting, too. I don’t want a happy, comfortable life.
Isabel Allende, 20th century novelist
Jud's evening with Roberto and his mother left him enriched but exhausted. What he expected to be a simple walk down memory lane brought unexpected revelations. Jud had never fully realized the extent of the pain his mother had endured before her death. Roberto shared how he would often sit by her hospital bed through the night, holding her hand and talking to distract her from the pain.
“She never gave up hope,” Roberto said. “She was a woman of faith and believed she would be healed.” He paused. “Your father drew strength from her conviction. He was shattered when the doctor told him she only had hours to live.”
Jud remembered that night all too well—the night he had lost his faith. Now, sitting 8,000 miles away and recalling the death of his mother, anger, confusion, and sadness surged within him. “How could it be?” he suddenly cried out. “Where is God when such a good woman can die at such an early age?” He turned to look out the window, trying to hide the tears that were about to fall.
Roberto doesn’t answer the question, but he begins to talk about Jud’s father and how his life changed after Jud’s mother passed away. Jud needed no reminders. He had watched his father give up his salaried position—not out of depression, but because he needed time to mourn and reorient his life. Jud clearly remembered the phone call from his dad that had unsettled him. It was short, to the point, and did not invite discussion or argument; it was more of an announcement: “Jud, I have decided to quit my job and diversify my life. I know you will have lots of questions, but I do not want to discuss them over the phone. I’m happy for you to come and see me, and we can talk face to face, but believe me, this is something I must do. I know some may call it a midlife crisis, but with your mother gone, I have decided to redirect my life. I have dreams that I have suppressed for years, and consequently, I have a growing inventory of regrets. I intend to rectify that. There are things I need to do, and people I want to see; I want to make some of my dreams come true.”
When the call ended, Jud worried about his father’s well-being. It was as if the roles had reversed—Jud was now the parent, and his father the wayward son. While Jud didn’t mind his father quitting his job, he found it worrying, not to mention embarrassing, to have a father who was unemployed and seemingly drifting.
Roberto shared stories of Jud’s father and even showed him some of the letters he had received from him in the months following Jud’s mother’s death. They were the words of a man with an inquiring mind searching for something more.
When Roberto asked where Jud was headed next, Jud responded, “I don’t know, actually, but let’s find out.” He opened Envelope 7. Inside was a postcard displaying a sketch of a river meandering in giant S-turns to the horizon. There was another smaller envelope with instructions not to read the contents until Jud reached his next destination. Jud read the postcard aloud:
Dear Jud,Roberto is a treasure to me. I trust you have found him the same. I have more to say, but not until you arrive at your next destination, which is New Zealand. It is a land of surprise and opportunity, Dad
Tremors in New Zealand
The flight from Manila was uneventful. It was Jud’s first visit to New Zealand. On the plane, he watched a documentary about the country’s emerging film industry, fueled by Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings. The “can do” spirit seemed to be a national trait.
As Jud exited the terminal, the cold autumn air in Auckland made him shudder. Unsure of where to go or what to do next, he retreated into the terminal and ordered a cup of coffee. Once settled in a private corner of the arrival hall, he opened the envelope.
Dear son, Welcome to New Zealand! I have a surprise for you. But first, look at the river pictured on the postcard you read while you were in Davao. Life is like that river: always moving forward but not in a predictable fashion. Looking closely, you will notice the river snaking across a flat plateau. There is no reason for the giant S-turns. The land is flat! Why doesn’t the river take the straightest route to the horizon? Surely it takes more energy to turn than to go straight. You would think that the momentum of the water coming from behind would force the river to go directly to the horizon, but it chooses to twist and turn. Are you getting it?
Life has its unexpected turns, and you will experience one now. On the back of this message, you will find a phone number. It is for a man named Grant, seven years older than you. He is your half-brother.
Your mother was married before. She had a whirlwind teenage romance that resulted in a pregnancy. The young man married her, but he began to beat her. Fearing for the life of her child, she ran away and filed for divorce. Her parents pressured her to put the baby up for adoption. She struggled for weeks and finally agreed that it was the best thing to do for the baby. Five years later, I married your mother, and two years after that, you were born. The night I asked your mother to marry me, she told me about her previous marriage and Grant's existence. Later, when you came along, we decided, rightly or wrongly, not to say to you. Our reason was to protect Grant’s privacy. He was adopted by a couple who, we learned later, had immigrated to New Zealand to start a vineyard on the South Island.
About ten years ago, Grant decided to search for his birth mother and found her a few weeks before she died. Many tears were shed, and questions were asked and answered. Your mother made me promise that I would find the right moment to tell you. She had wanted to say to you herself but was afraid of how you might react and didn’t want to spoil her final time with you. She was torn. She loved you so much.
Grant returned for the funeral, and I had hoped for an opportunity to introduce the two of you, but you were so caught up in your grief that he and I both felt it was bad timing. Then several years went by, and each year I wanted to take you to New Zealand to meet him. Sadly, you are now here on your own.
I wrote to Grant and said that you might be coming. I hope you are not too angry and distressed. Love Dad.
Jud was stunned; the turbulent thoughts and emotions triggered by his father’s note nearly overwhelmed him. He struggled to keep from exploding with anger and sadness. It had been a mistake to read the note here. He needed a private place. Almost in shock, he walked outside, jumped into a cab, and said, “Take me to a hotel, any hotel; just get me there as fast as you can.”
“Airport hotel or downtown hotel?” the taxi driver asked.“Downtown,” said Jud, without knowing how far it was. “Not too expensive, but somewhere with a view.” I know just the place,” the driver replied.
Usually, Jud would have sought out a local hostel, as he had come to enjoy the company of fellow travelers. But this time, he needed space—a place to deal with the bombshell his father had just dropped.
In the hotel room, Jud threw his bag on the floor, the letter on the nightstand, and himself face-first on the bed. His emotions swung wildly between anger and a deep, penetrating sadness. So many thoughts raced through his mind that he didn’t know how to deal with them all. After a few moments, he rolled off the bed and stood by the window, staring blankly at the harbor below. He watched the ferries come and go, struggling with the implications of calling this so-called half-brother. He couldn’t believe that his parents had kept such a significant secret for all these years.
Jud, the man, cried like a little boy who denied the one thing he always wanted but never knew why he couldn’t have. “I’ve been robbed,” he sobbed, hammering the chair with his fist. Hours later, he felt numb and strangely alone. If only his wife were here.
By late afternoon, Jud found the courage to make the call. A sturdy, heavily accented male voice answered.
“Hello. Is Grant there?” Jud asked.
“Speaking.” It was a short, almost abrupt answer. Jud thought Grant was at his desk, still shuffling papers, when the phone rang.
“My name is Jud; I believe you know my father?”
There was a brief pause and an almost imperceptible intake of breath.
“Sure do, mate. I’m Grant, of whom your father spoke. Been ‘spectin’ your call.”
“Yes,” Jud stammered, searching for polite words. “I’m staying at a hotel next to the ferry terminal at the harbor. Could we get together?”
“Yeeeus,” Grant drawled in a typical Kiwi accent: “How about I meet you outside the ferry terminal at a café called Chin Chin in about an hour?”
"Sounds good,” Jud lied.
“I’ll be waiting out front.”
Jud arrived early. His flight had landed in the morning, which was now late afternoon. He needed caffeine. He saw Grant approaching and knew immediately that this was his mother’s son—the same blue-green eyes as his mother. The resemblance was unmistakable.
Jud stood and greeted Grant with a stiff handshake. “Can we walk?” he asked, knowing it was rude, but he didn’t want to sit across a table from Grant. — not yet.
“Of course,” Grant replied.
Walking was good, Jud thought. This man was a stranger, and walking was convenient for avoiding intimate eye contact. Jud wasn’t ready for familial intimacy. The two men strolled up the hill towards Metro City, then left to Albert Park. The paths were steep, and Jud noticed Grant was struggling for breath. He wasn’t sure why he quickened the pace, but Grant didn’t complain and sped up.
They looped through the park and back down onto Victoria Street. Most of their conversation was about New Zealand and the vineyard owned by Grant’s family on the South Island. Grant was in charge of sales and marketing, so he lived in Auckland—a city that one of three Kiwis call home. Jud noticed the Albert Park Backpackers’ Hostel, sandwiched between The Beat Merchants and The Hemp Store. Eventually, they ended up at the top of the Sky Tower, where they finally sat down for a cold drink, admiring the view through the window.
Jud yelped when suddenly a body dropped from the roof overhead. He jumped up, watching as the body plummeted toward the ground below. Grant laughed and slapped Jud on the back.
“It’s OK, mate. It’s very safe. Anyone can do it—anyone that is prepared to cough up a couple hundred dollars.”
Relieved that he hadn’t just witnessed a suicide, Jud laughed too.“C’mon, bro,” said Grant. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
As Jud and Grant navigate their newfound relationship, Jud must confront the reality of his family’s secrets. Will the bond between these two brothers grow, or will the weight of the past be too much to overcome? Stay tuned for the next installment, where Jud’s journey unfolds.
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