Excerpt from Tribunal by Nancy Hersage, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

As they walked back to the bus stop in the evening, Nita's eyes crossed Plaza Lawton. She remembered Martin waving good-bye and saying, 'They have a post office, don't they? Write me. I'll write you.' Well, there was the general post office.

"Come on, Carlos," she said, gripping his hand tighter. "Let's go this way."

The lobby was open. Nita scrounged paper from a waste-basket and used the pen chained to one of the lobby counters. What should she write? That there was no work? That her children were growing thinner again? That Enrique was being swallowed up in the misery of it all -- and she was too? She wanted to tell him that she wished she'd never got on that bus. They should have died quickly in Bangued instead of slowly on Smoky Mountain.

'Dear Martin,' she wrote, 'I hope you are well. Do you have a job? Can you help my husband find one? Please write me here. Thank you. Nita Pangil.'

She did not have an envelope. Instead, she folded the paper over and sealed it with stamp glue from the counter. She addressed it as she had her letters to her family in the mountains, the way you address letters to people who have no address: Martin Valera, c/o Poste Restante, General Post Office, Manila. She did not have enough money to buy the necessary stamps and still be able to pay the bus fare home, so she dropped the folded paper through the mail slot just as it was. The message won't have to go any further than this building, she reasoned. Maybe they will hold it for him even if I don't pay. She didn't really believe they would. But then, she didn't really believe Martin would pick it up -- any more than she really believed Martin could find Enrique a job.

Letty's spirit seemed to be receding along with Enrique's. They both slept the morning away now. Neither spoke very much. Letty's eyes stopped crying to Nita for attention. Enrique's eyes stopped blaming Nita for failure. Father and daughter were giving up together.

Occasionally, Nita thought about returning to the post office to see if there was a general delivery letter for her from Martin, but she did not have the will power to drag Letty out of the shadows of the shanty. Nor did she have the bus fare. When she did gather a few coins, she gave them to Enrique to bet at the cockfights. It was his only pleasure and once in a while he won, which meant he brought home treats for the children.

One Sunday she emptied her money can of change, handing it to her husband.

"I want you to take Carlos with you," she insisted, knowing he felt indebted to her for the money. "I am going to take Letty to the clinic. Dalia says they are giving vaccinations today."

"No," he said.

"Yes! Carlos," she called, "would you like to go to the cockfights?" She knew that announcing the possibility to Carlos would make her husband's departure impossible without a scene. Once she dangled her permission in front of the boy, he would be relentless. Enrique knew it, too, and took the boy's hand, growling at her as he did.

"You'll have to do exactly as I tell you," Enrique said.

"Yes, Papa."

"And I don't want you to get lost."

"Yes, Papa."

"And -- "

"Yes, Papa!"

Enrique smiled at his son's enthusiasm. "OK, then."

Once that was settled, Nita scooped up Letty and walked down the mud path toward Dalia's.

"I hear the line outside the clinic is three blocks long," Nita told her friend, who was readying her twin babies for the vaccinations.

"I know the back door," said Dalia.

Not only did Dalia know a back door, but she knew a nurse at the clinic. The two mothers still had to wait an hour, but it was nothing compared to the wait outside. The nurse seemed very concerned about Letty's lethargy -- so concerned that she would not give the child the medication.

"I want the doctor to see her first. Let me get her."

Copyright Nancy Hersage 2000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the publisher or author.