Bald-headed
Ch. 21

He feels very satisfied that he has come, happy that Sugi has grown into the type of man he thinks will realize what is possible for him, happy that he will live forever with that knowledge. He has seen too many men in recent years destroyed by life, or time, or even money.

It takes strength to sustain inner desire, and Sugi has done it.

This is a world of workers, not poets, and people will have a hard time understanding Sugi.

The country is busy right now, all the newspapers are saying so, and people are rushing forward, leaving behind the horrors of the poverty war. He understands the reason, but they rush, like Ali, towards long hours and profits, ignoring the things that bring beauty to the world.

Who did he know in that corner of town there who took time off to fix up the house? Or reading Spirit Rebellious, finding images in the mind, thoughts about the spirit? Or the dawn hunt from the sampan bow?

These are not the things that drive society, but he feels they should not be considered unimportant. They make life worthwhile.

To him it was the same as art, even though he only realized it when he came here. Or rather, remember it.

He had known it before, and once again he cursed himself for forgetting something as important as creating beauty. Painting was what he was supposed to do, he was sure of it now.

Her feelings this morning had confirmed it, and she knew that no matter what, she would try it again. A fair break, no matter what people say.

Will Ali support him in painting?

She remembers showing one of her paintings a few months after they first started dating. It was an abstract painting and meant to inspire thought.

On the one hand, it was similar to the painting on the wall of Sugi's living room, which Sugi really understood, although what he showed Ali this time was probably a less passionate touch.

Ali stared at the painting, studied it, almost. And then ask her what she should look like. He did not bother to answer.

Birundasih shook his head then, knowing he was not entirely fair. He loved Ali, and always has, for other reasons. Although he is not Sugi, Ali is a good man, the type of man he knows he will marry.

With Ali there will be no surprises, and there is comfort in knowing what the future holds. He will be a good husband to her, and she will be a good wife. He will have a home near friends and family, children, a respectable place in society. It was the kind of life he had always hoped to live, the kind of life he wanted to live.

And although she wouldn't describe their relationship as a passionate one, she has convinced herself for a long time that this doesn't need to be met in a relationship, even with the person she wants to marry.

Passion will fade in time, and things like friendship and fit will take its place. He and Ali have this, and he assumes this is all he needs.

But now, as he watched Sugi paddle, he questioned this basic assumption.

She exudes sexuality in everything she does, everything she does, and she finds herself thinking about it in a way that an engaged woman shouldn't. He tried not to stare and often threw away his face, but

the way he moved his body easily made it difficult for Birundasih to keep the old eyes of this man.

"This is it" Sugi said as he pointed the canoe at several trees near the riverbank.

Birundasih looked around, not seeing anything.

"Where's that?"

He directed the canoe around the tree, and both of them had to bow their heads so as not to bump.

"Close your eyes" he whispered, and Birundasih did, bringing his hand to his face.

He heard the roar of water and felt the movement of the canoe as he pushed it forward, away from the pull of the river.

"OK," he finally said after he stopped rowing. "You can open it now."

They sit in the middle of a small lake that is fed by the waters of Cisadane and Ciliwung. It was not huge, perhaps less than a hundred meters wide, and he was surprised at how invisible the place was just a moment before.

It's spectacular. The Tundra and Mute Swan geese completely surround them. Probably thousands of them. The birds were floating so close together in some places that he could not see the water. From a distance, collect the fowl look stunning in the dominating white.

"Oh, Sugi," he finally said softly, "it's beautiful."

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the birds. Sugi showed a group of goose cubs, which had just hatched, following a flock of geese near the side of the lake, struggling to follow.

The air was filled with the sound of swans chirping as Sugi moved the canoe through the water. Most birds ignore them. The line of groups that seemed disturbed were those who were forced to move when the canoe approached them.

Birundasih reached out to touch the nearest one and felt their feathers and ruffled them under his finger.

Sugi took out a bag of bread he had brought before and handed it to Birundasih. He spread bread, the goose children scrambled with crowds, he laughed and smiled as they swam around in circles, looking for food.

They stayed until the thunder boomed in the distance, vague but powerful and both knew it was time to leave.

Sugi led them back into the stream, pedaling stronger than ever. Birundasih was still amazed by what he saw.

"Sugi, what are they doing here?"

"I don't know. I know geese from the north migrate to the country's four-season lakes every winter, but I guess they come here this time. I don't know why. Maybe the early snowstorm had something to do with it. Maybe they're off track or something. But they'll find a way back."

"They won't stay?"

"I doubt. They are driven by instinct, and this is not their place. Some geese may like this place for a while, but geese will return to a place that suits their habitat, cold or temperate climate, tropical may not be the one they want to settle in."

Sugi paddled loudly as dark clouds rolled right over his head. Before long the rain began to fall, initially drizzling lightly, then gradually getting heavier. Lightning ... pause. . then thunder again. A little harder now. Maybe six or seven miles away. The rain grew heavier as Sugi pedaled and he began to paddle harder, his muscles tensing with each blow.

Thicker drops now.

Falling. . .

Falling with the wind. . .

Fall hard and thick. . . Sugi paddled. . raced with the sky. . getting wet. . cursed himself. . . lost to nature...