Bald-headed
Ch. 15

Ali could not stir up this feeling in him. He never has been and probably never will be. Maybe that's why he never slept with her. Ali had tried before, many times, using everything from flowers to guilt, and Birundasih had always used the excuse that she wanted to wait until marriage.

Ali accepts his reasons well, usually, and he sometimes wonders how much it would hurt Ali if he knew about Sugi.

But there was something else that made him want to wait, and it had to do with Ali himself. He was encouraged in his work, and it always attracted most of his attention. Work came first, and for him there was no time for poetry and wasted the night and swayed on the veranda. He knew this was why he was successful, and part of him respected Ali for it.

But he also felt it wasn't enough. He wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, maybe, or maybe a quiet conversation in a candlelit room, or maybe something as simple as not being second.

Sugi, too, was filtering his thoughts. For him, that night will be remembered as one of the most special times he has ever experienced. As he swayed, he recalled everything in detail, then recalled it again. Everything he did somehow felt tickling to him, filled up.

Now, sitting beside him, he wondered if he had ever dreamed the same thing as he had experienced during their years of separation. Did he ever dream of them hugging again and kissing under the gentle moonlight? Or did he go further and dream of their bodies swallowed jang, which had been separated for too long. . . .

He looked up at the stars and recalled the thousands of empty nights he had spent since the last time they met. Seeing him again brought all those feelings to the surface, and he found it impossible to suppress them back.

He finds out then he wants to make love to her again and get her love in return. That's what he needs most in the world.

But he also realized it would never happen. Now she's engaged.

Birundasih knew from his silence that this man was thinking about him and found that he enjoyed it. He didn't know what his thoughts were, didn't really care, just knew it was about him and that was enough.

He thought about their conversation over dinner and wondered about loneliness. For some reason she could not imagine Sugi reciting a poem to someone else or the moment of sharing her dream with another woman. He doesn't seem like that kind of guy. Either that, or he just doesn't want to believe it.

She put down her tea, then combed her hair with her hands, closing her eyes as she did so.

"Are you tired?" he asked, finally breaking away from his thoughts.

"Little bit. I have to be gone in a few minutes."

"I know," he said, nodding, his tone neutral.

He did not wake up immediately. Instead he took the cup and drank the final tea, feeling it warm his throat.

He's enjoying the night. The moon is getting higher now, the wind in the trees, the temperature is dropping.

He looked at Sugi next. The scar on his face was visible from the side. He wondered if it happened during his time working in Batam or he got it when he was in Australia.

Then wondered if he had ever been seriously injured. He did not mention it and he did not ask, especially since he did not want to imagine him getting hurt.

"I have to go," he finally said, handing the blanket back to Sugi.

Sugi nodded, then stood up without a word. He had a blanket on him, and they both walked to his car while leaves rattled under their feet. She starts taking off the clothes she lent her as she opens the door, but Sugi stops her.

"Save it," he said. "I want you to have it."

He didn't ask why, because he also wanted to keep it. He rearranged it and crossed his arms afterwards to ward off the cold. For some reason, as she stood there she was reminded to stand on her front porch after a teen dance party, waiting for a kiss.

"I'm having fun tonight" he said.

"Thank you for finding me."

"Me too" he answered.

A simple question. He knew what the answer was, especially if he wanted to keep his life simple. 'I don't think we should do it, ' that's all he needs to say, and it will end here and now. But for a moment he said nothing.

The chosen demon then confronts him, teases him, challenges him. Why can't he say it? He doesn't know. But as he looked into her eyes to find the answer she needed, he saw the man she once loved, and suddenly everything became clear.

"I like that idea."

Sugi surprised. He did not expect Birundasih to answer like this. She wanted to touch him back then, to hug him, but he didn't.

"Can you be here around noon?"

"certain. What do you want to do?"

"You will see" he answered. "I know the right place to visit."

"Have I been there before?"

"No, but this is a special place."

"Where's that?"

"It's a surprise."

"Am I going to like it?"

"You're gonna love it" he said.

He turned around before he could try a kiss. He did not know if he would try but knew for some reason that if he did, he would have trouble stopping it.

He can't handle that now, with everything in his head. He sat behind the wheel, sighing in relief. Sugi closed the door for her, and she started the machine. Shortly before he started driving, he lowered the window glass slightly.

"See you tomorrow" he said, his eyes reflecting the moonlight.

Sugi waved as he pushed the car out. He turned it around, then drove down a small road, heading towards the city.

Sugi watched the car until the lights were not visible behind a distant tree and the engine sound was gone. Cemong walked towards him and he crouched down to stroke him, paying special attention to his neck, scratching the place he could no longer reach.

After which he looked down the street for the last time, they returned to the back porch with Cemong in a lap.

He sat on the rocking chair again, this time alone, once again trying to make sense of the night that had just passed. Think about it. Replay. Saw again. Heard again.

Run it in slow motion. He doesn't want to play his guitar right now, doesn't want to read. Don't know what he's feeling.

"She's engaged" she whispered at last, then kept quiet for hours, her rocking chair making the only sound.

The night was quiet now, with little activity except Cemong, who occasionally visited him, checking him out as if asking, "Are you okay?"

And just moments after midnight on that clear night, everything flowed inwards and Sugi was overcome with longing. And if anyone saw it, they would see what an old man looked like, someone who aged in just a few hours. A person bowed in his wobbly chair with a face in his hands and tears in his eyes.

He doesn't know how to stop that.