The sala rang out with laughter. Over snacks and drinks, Vicente and Ronaldo had begun teasing each other about their mishaps during the journey.
Vicente was reminded of the time he tripped over a rock in Parañaque and fell sharply on his back, or how he curiously picked up a goat dropping—thinking it was some sort of berry—as we passed by a farm in Bacoor.
Ronaldo, on the other hand, got teased for earning the ire of a farmer's wife in San Nicolas when he haggled too hard over one of her chickens—possibly another attempt to impress me. Or for how he flirted with one of the maids in General Mascardo's house and got spectacularly snubbed.
