The very next day after the meeting, the people of Sta. Cruz gathered to witness a public execution. It was early in the morning—just bright enough to not be dim. Still, the townsfolk responded in force, eager to witness what would be a first in their town.
Children were perched atop their parents' shoulders, young men swam through the crowd to get a better view, and vendors took advantage of the event, selling sweets and rice cakes. Even the young women of the principalia attended, escorted by their servants and hiding their faces behind unfurled embroidered fans.
Where we set up would have been an odd choice were it a regular gathering. We were at the far end of the town plaza, away from the presidencia municipal, near the uglier portion of the town. Behind me stood an abandoned stone structure—the remains of a former Spanish government building.
The gobernadorcillo and the principales had taken refuge under the shade of a nearby mabolo tree.
