Bald-headed
Ch. 11

He wandered around the house for the next few minutes, walking through the rooms, noticing how beautiful it looked. By the time he was done, it was hard to remember how broken it used to be. He went down the stairs, turned to the kitchen, and looked at his profile. For a moment he looked like another seventeen-year-old young man, and it made him pause for a moment before continuing.

Fuck, he thought, control yourself. Remember that you are engaged now.

He stood by the counter, a pair of closet doors wide open, an empty grocery bag on the floor, whistling softly. Sugi smiled at her before putting a few more cans into one of the cabinets. He paused a few feet from her and leaned against the counter, one foot above the other. He shook his head, amazed at how much the man had done.

"Hard to believe, Sugi. How long's the refurbishment?"

He looked up from where the last bag he had dismantled was. "Almost a year."

"Did you do it yourself?"

He laughed out loud. "No. I used to think that I would do it while I was young, and I started that way. But it's too much. It would take years, so I ended up hiring a few people. But even with them, there's still a lot of work, and often I don't stop until after midnight."

"Why are you working so hard?"

Ghost, he wanted to say that, but no.

"I don't know. Just wanted to finish, I guess. Do you want to drink something before I start dinner?"

"What do you have?"

"Not much, really. Beer, tea, coffee."

"Tea sounds good."

He collected the grocery bag and put it away, then walked into a small room near the kitchen before returning with a box of tea. He took out a few tea bags and placed them near the stove, then filled the teapot. After putting it on the stove, he lit a match, and he heard the sound of flames as it lit up.

"It's just a minute" he said. "These pumps are hot fast."

"It's okay."

As the teapot rang, he poured for two cups and handed one to her.

He smiled and took a sip, then pointed towards the window. "I'll bet the kitchen is beautiful when the morning light shines."

He's nodding. "Yes. I installed a bigger window on this side of the house just for that reason. Even in the bedroom upstairs."

"I'm sure your guests enjoyed it. Unless they want to sleep late and wake up later."

Actually, I've never received a guest staying. Ever since my father died, I really didn't know who to invite."

For some reason his speech made him feel. . lonely. Sugi seemed to realize how he felt himself, before Birundasi realized something, he changed the subject.

"I'm going to put the crab in to marinate for a few minutes before I steam it," he said as he placed his cup on the table.

He went to the cupboard and took out a big pot with a steamer and lid. He brought the pot to the sink, added water, then took it to the stove.

"Can I help you by doing something?"

He pointed to the cupboard near the sink, and Birundasih took another sip of tea before putting his cup on the table and walking to pick up the bowl.

He took her to the fridge and found okra, zucchini, onions, and carrots on the bottom shelf. Sugi joined her in front of the open door, and she moved to make room for Sugi.

He could smell the man as the man stood beside him, clean, familiar, typical—and felt the man's arms coming into contact with him as the man leaned over and grabbed inside. He pulled out a beer and a bottle of spicy sauce, then returned to the stove.

Sugi opened the beer and poured it into the water, then added a spicy sauce and some other condiments. After stirring the water to make sure the powder dissolved, he went to the back door to pick up the crab.

Sugi paused for a moment before turning back inside and looking at Birundasih, watching him chop a carrot. As she did that, she wondered again why she had come, especially now that she was engaged. All this seemed to make no sense to him.

But then, he remembered the girl was always a surprise.

He smiled at himself, recalling how Birundasih used to be. Fiery, spontaneous, passionate, as most artists imagine. And he's really like that. Artistic talent like hers is a gift. He remembers seeing some of the paintings in museums in Australia and thought that Birundasih's work was as good as what he saw there.

Birundasih had given him a painting before he left at the end of the holiday season. It hangs on the side of the wall in the living room. Birundasih called it the picture of his dream, and to Sugi it seemed very sensual.

When he sees it, and he often does it late at night, he can see the desire in color and line, and if he focuses carefully, he can see the desire in color, he could imagine what the woman was thinking with each of her scratches.

A dog barks in the distance, and Sugi realizes that he has long been standing with the door open. He quickly closed it, returning to the kitchen. And as he walked, he wondered if he realized how long he had been gone.

"How are you?" he asked, seeing that he was almost done.

"good. I'm almost done here. Anything else for dinner?"

"I have homemade bread that I planned as our menu."

"Make yourself?"

"From the neighbors," he said as he placed the bucket in the sink. He turned on the faucet and started rinsing the crab, holding it under water, then letting it run around the sink while he rinsed the next one. Birundasih took his cup and came to watch.

"Aren't you afraid they'll pinch you when you take it?"

"No. Just hold it like this" he said, demonstrating, and he smiled.

"I forgot you've been doing this your whole life. Situ Gintung is small, but it teaches you how to do the things that matter."

Birundasih leaned against the counter, stood close to him, and emptied his cup. When the crab was ready, Sugi put it in a pot on the stove. He washed his hands, turned to talk to Birundasih.

"You want to sit on the porch for a few minutes? I want to let them soak for half an hour."

"Sure," he said.

He wiped his hands, and together they went to the back porch. Sugi turned on the lights as they came out, and he sat down on an older rocking chair, offering her a newer one.

When he saw his cup empty, he went inside for a moment and appeared with a cup of tea and beer for himself. He reached out a cup and Birundasih took it, sipping again before he placed it on the table beside the chair.