Bald-headed
Ch. 13

Sugi came out at that moment and he smiled at her, glad she came back so she didn't have to think about it anymore. "It will take a few minutes" he said, sitting back down.

"It's okay. I'm not too hungry yet."

She looked at him at that moment, and she saw the gentleness in her eyes. "I'm glad you came, Birundasih," he said.

"me too. But I barely did it."

"Why did you come?"

I had to, she wanted to say that, but no.

"Just to see you, to know what you've done. To see how you're doing."

Sugi wondered if that was all but did not ask further. Instead, he changed the subject.

"By the way, I want to ask, are you still painting?"

He shook his head. "Not anymore."

She's stunned. "Why not? You have a lot of talent."

"I don't know...."

"of course. You quit for a reason."

He's correct. He has his reasons.

"The story is long."

"I have all night" he replied.

"Do you really think I'm talented?" he asked slowly.

"Come," he said, grabbing her hand, "I want to show you something."

He got up and followed her through the door to the living room. He stopped in front of a wall and pointed to the painting hanging up there. He flinched, surprised he didn't realize it before, more surprised it was here.

"You kept it?"

"Of course I kept it. It's amazing."

He gave her a skeptical look, and she explained. "It makes me feel alive when I see it. Sometimes I have to get up and touch it. It's very real— shape, shadow, color. Sometimes I even dream of it. Amazing, Birundasih— I can stare at him for hours."

"You're serious" he said, surprised.

"As serious as I've ever been."

Birundasih.

"You mean, no one's ever told you before?"

"My professor did," he finally said, "but I don't think I trust him."

He knows there's more. Birundasih turned his face away before continuing.

"I've been drawing and painting since I was a kid. As I grew up, I began to think that I was good at it. I enjoyed it too. I remember working on this painting that holiday season, adding her drawings to it every day, changing it as our relationship changed.

I don't even remember how it started or what I wanted, but somehow it developed into this." Birundasi took a breath before continuing.

"I remember not being able to stop painting after I got back to Surabaya. I thought it was my way of avoiding the pain I was experiencing. Anyway, I ended up majoring in art in college because it was something I had to do, I remember spending hours in the studio alone and enjoying every minute of it.

I love the freedom I feel when I'm creative, because it makes me feel challenged to make something beautiful.

Just before I graduated, my professor, who also happened to be a critic for the newspaper, told me that I had a lot of talent. He told me that I should try my luck as an artist. But I didn't listen to him."

He stopped there, gathering his thoughts.

"My parents considered it inappropriate for people like me to paint as a livelihood. I stopped after some time. And I haven't touched a brush in years."

He looked at the painting.

"I'm not sure if I can anymore. It's been a long time."

"You can still do it, Birundasih. I know you can. You have talent that comes from within you, from your heart, not from your fingers. What you have will never be lost. Something that only others can dream of. You're an artist, Birundasih."

The words were spoken sincerely so she knew she didn't say them just to be nice. He truly believed in his abilities, and for some reason it meant more to him than he expected. But something else happened later, something even more powerful.

Why it happened, he never knew, but that was when the abyss began to close for Birundasih, the abyss he established in his life to separate pain from pleasure. And at that moment he suspected, perhaps not consciously, that there was more to it than he admitted.

But at that moment he still did not fully realize it, and he turned to face her. He reached out and touched Sugi's hand, hesitatingly, gently, amazed that after so many years he somehow knew exactly what he needed to hear. When their eyes locked, he once again realized how special he was.

And for a moment, a small blob of time that hung in the air like a firefly in the night sky, she wondered if she was in love with him again.

The timer rang in the kitchen, a small ding, and Sugi turned around, stopping the strange moment affected by what had just happened between them. His eyes had spoken to him and whispered something he wanted to hear, yet he could not stop the voice inside his head, his voice, which told him about the woman's love for another man.

Sugi secretly cursed the timer as he walked into the kitchen and took out the bread from the oven. He almost burned his fingers, dropped the bread on the table, and saw that the frying pan was ready. He added the vegetables and heard them start to crackle. Then, muttering to himself, he took out the butter from the fridge, smeared it on the bread, and melted a little more for the crab.

Birundasih followed him into the kitchen and cleared his throat.

"Can I prepare a table?"

Sugi used a bread knife as a pointer. "Sure, the plate is there. Tools and napkins there. Make sure you get a lot of napkins because crabs can get messy, so we need them."

He could not look at the girl as she spoke. He did not want to realize that he was wrong about what had just happened between them. He didn't want it to be a mistake.

Birundasih also wondered about the moment and felt warm she thought about it. The words he spoke replayed in his head as he found everything he needed for the table, the dishes, the setting of the place, the salt and pepper. Sugi handed over his bread as he finished the table, and their fingers touched briefly.

He turned his attention back to the frying pan and flipped the vegetables. He lifted the steam cap, saw that the crab still needed a little while, and let it cook again. He was calmer now and returned to small talk, casual conversation.

Have you ever eaten crab before?"

"A few times. But only in salad."

She laughs. "Then you're ready to go on an adventure. Just a minute." He disappeared upstairs for a moment, then came back in a dark blue buttoned shirt. He had her buttons open for him.

"Here, put this on. I don't want you to stain your dress."

Birundasih put it on and smelled the scent stuck to his shirt—aroma, typical, natural.

"Don't worry," he said, looking at his expression, "it's clean."

She laughs. "I knew. It just reminds me of our real first date. You gave me your jacket that night, remember?"

He's nodding. "Yes, I remember. Ron and Eva are with us. Ron kept elbowing me all the way back to your parents' house, trying to get me to hold your hand."

"But you didn't do it."

"No," he replied, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"Shame, maybe, or fear. I don't know. It didn't seem like the right thing to do at the time."

"In hindsight, you're a bit shy, aren't you."

"I prefer the words 'quiet confident'," he replied with a wink, and he smiled.

Vegetables and crabs are ready at the same time. "Be careful, they're hot" he said, handing them to Birundasih, and they sat face to face at a small wooden table.

Then, realizing the tea was still on the table outside, Birundasih stood up and took it with him. After putting some vegetables and bread on their plate, Sugi added the crab, and Birundasih sat down for a moment, looking at him.

"Like an insect."

"But the insects are good," he said. "Here, let me show you how."

He demonstrated quickly, making it look easy, taking out the meat and putting it on his plate. Birundasih smashed the crab's legs too hard for the first time, and had to use his fingers to remove the shell from the flesh.

She feels clumsy at first, worried she sees every mistake, but then she realizes her own insecurity. That guy doesn't care about things like that. Sugi never did.