Bald-headed
Ch. 24

Lightning strikes again.

In the silent moments before the thunder, their eyes met as they tried to sort out the memories of fourteen years ago, both of them feeling a change since yesterday.

When the thunder finally sounded, Sugi sighed and turned away from her, staring at the window.

"I wish you could read the letters I wrote for you" he said.

Birundasih did not speak for a long time.

"That's not just the hope you have, Sugi. I didn't tell you, but I wrote a dozen letters to you after I got home. I never sent it."

"Why?" Sugi surprised.

"I think I'm too scared."

"From what?"

"That might not be as real as I thought. Like, afraid maybe you'll forget me."

"I would never do that. I can't even think about it."

"I know that now. I can see it when I see you. But back then, it was different. There are so many things that I don't understand, things that a young girl's mind can't sort out."

"What do you mean?"

He stopped, gathering his thoughts.

"When your letter never came, I didn't know what to think. I remember talking to my best friend about what happened that holiday season, and he said that you were a man and got what you wanted, and he's not surprised that you won't be contacting me again once we're separated.

I can't believe that you're like that, I've never done it, I never did, but hearing his words and thinking about all our differences made me wonder if could it be that the holiday season meant more to me alone than to you. . . . , while all these things were going through my head, I heard a news from Eva. He said that you had left Situ Gintung."

"Ron and Eva always knew where I was-"

He raised his hand to stop Sugi from continuing his words.

"I know, but I never asked. I thought you had left Situ Gintung to start a new life, without me. Is that why you never wrote me a letter? Or call? Or come see me.?"

Sugi looked away without answering, and Birundasih continued...

"I don't know, and over time, the pain begins to fade and it's easier to let go. At least that's how I think it is. But for every man I met in the next few years, I found myself looking for you, and when that feeling became too strong, I would write another letter. But I never sent those letters out of fear of what I might find.

Back then, you had moved on with your life and I didn't want to think about you loving someone else. I want to remember us like that holiday season. I don't want to lose it."

She said it so sweetly, so innocently, that Sugi wanted to kiss her when she was done. But he didn't do it. He resisted the urge and kept her away, knowing it wasn't what the woman needed. Yet all of Birundasih's confessions felt so overwhelming to him, touching him. . . .

"The last letter I wrote a few years ago. After I met Ali, I wrote to your father and asked him where you were. But considering how long we've been apart, I'm not sure if he's still here, same address as last time I knew, and it makes me stop sending that letter again."

He fell silent, and they were silent for a moment, both of them deep in thought. Lightning lit up the sky again before Sugi finally broke the silence.

"Why?"

"Just to hear from you. To hear what you've done."

"You may be disappointed. My life isn't very pleasant. Besides, I'm not exactly what you remember."

"You're better than I remember, Birundasih."

"You're so sweet, Sugi."

He held his words there, realizing that it turned out that he was keeping those words inside him, somehow he was able to remain in control, she said, the same control he had maintained for the past fourteen years.

But something else has caught up with him now, and he's given up on him, hoping somehow it'll bring them back to what they've had in the past.

"I didn't say it because I was sweet. I say it because I love you now and always have. More than you can imagine."

A wooden rod broke, sending sparks into the air, and the two saw the smoldering remains, almost burnt to the ground. The fire needed another log, but neither of them moved.

Birundasih took another sip of bourbon and began to feel the effects. But it wasn't just the alcohol that made him hug Sugi a little tighter and feel his warmth. Glancing out the window, he saw a nearly black cloud.

"Let me kindle the fire again" said Sugi, needing to think, and Birundasih let go of his embrace.

He went to the fireplace and added a few sticks. He re-arranged the burning wood, making sure the new wood could get snagged easily and lit up.

The flames started to spread again, and Sugi returned to his side. Birundasih curled up to him again, leaning his head on his shoulder like before, not speaking, rubbing his hands lightly against his chest.

Sugi leaned closer and whispered in his ear.

"It reminds me of how we used to be. When we were young."

He smiled, and they watched the flames and thin smoke, hugging each other.

"Sugi, you never ask, but I want you to know something."

"What's that?"

Soft voice.

"There's never been another, Sugi. You're not just the first. You're the only man I've ever been with. I don't expect you to say the same thing, but I want you to know."

Sugi fell silent as the woman turned around and hugged him. Birundasih felt warmer when he saw the fire. His hands touched the muscles under Sugi's shirt, hard and tight as they leaned against each other.

Birundasih remembers when they hugged like this for what they thought would be the last time. They sat on the lake wall designed to hold the water of Situ Gintung lake.

She cries because they may never see each other again, and she asks Sugi how he can be happy again without her. Instead of answering the question, Sugi simply stuck a note to his hand, which he then read on his way home.

He had kept the message all this time, occasionally reading everything or sometimes only partially. One passage had been read at least a hundred times, and for some reason it flashed through his mind now.