Bald-headed
Ch. 28

Driving with teary eyes was difficult, but he continued, hoping instinct would bring him back to the inn. He let his window down, thinking that fresh air might help clear his mind, but it didn't seem to help. No one can help.

He was tired, and he wondered if he had the energy he needed to talk to Ali. And what would he say? He still did not know but hoped something would come to him when the time came.

It's gotta.

By the time Birundasih drove through a fairly crowded park, he was already more in control of himself. Not completely, but healthy enough, he thought, to talk to Ali. At least he hopes so.

Traffic was quiet, and he had time to see people running their businesses as he drove more slowly through the city streets.

At a gas station, a mechanic was looking under the hood of a new car while a man, possibly the owner, was standing next to him.

Next, two women were pushing a pram in the front of a shopping center that was off the highway, chatting while looking out the window.

In front of a large and famous bakery whose roof was displaying a windmill, a well-dressed and neat man walked quickly while carrying a briefcase.

He turned again and saw a young man unloading groceries from a truck that blocked part of the road. Something about the way the young man held back while lifting weights or the way he moved, reminded him of Sugi who was harvesting crabs at the end of the pier.

Now Birundasih saw the inn at the end of the street as he slowed down and stopped at a red light. He took a deep breath as the lights turned green and drove slowly until he reached the parking lot that the inn used along with several other businesses.

Birundasih turned around and saw Ali's car parked in the first place. Although the area next to it was open, Birundasih passed by and chose a place a little further from the entrance.

He turned the key, and the machine stopped immediately. Next he reached into the drawer to pick up the mirror and hairbrush, finding them lying on a map of the Old City he had not been able to visit. Looking at himself in the mirror reflection, he saw that his eyes were still red and swollen.

Like yesterday after the rain, while observing her reflection, she regretted not dressing up, even though she doubted it would help a lot now. She tried to pull her hair back, then on one side, tried both sides, then finally gave up. And comb her hair to be left to wiggle as is.

He grabbed his pocketbook, opened it, and once again looked at the article that brought him here. So much has happened since then, it's hard to believe that it's only been three weeks.

It seemed impossible to him that he had only arrived the day after tomorrow. It's been like a lifetime since he had dinner with Sugi.

The starlings were chirping in the trees around it. The clouds began to break now, and Birundasih could see the blue color between the white plots. The sun was still shady, but he knew it was only a matter of time. That day would have been a beautiful day.

It was a day he wanted to spend with Sugi, and when he thought about it, he remembered the letters his mother had given him and grabbed them.

He opened the package and found the first letter Sugi had written for him. He started to open it, then stopped because he could imagine what was inside. Something simple, undoubtedly—things he has done, memories of the holiday season, maybe some questions. After all, he might expect an answer from her.

Birundasih decided to move on to grab the last letter Sugi had written for him, which was at the bottom of the pile. Goodbye letter. This one is more interesting to him than the others. What did he write? How did he say it?

Birundasih held his breath as he used his nails to open them. He saw it delivered in March. Calculating briefly. Two and a half years without answers.

Birundasih imagined Sugi sitting at an old table, stringing the words in the letter, thinking and knowing it was the end of his efforts all along.

Then Birundasih saw what he thought was a tear stain on the paper. Maybe just his imagination.

He straightened the page and began reading under the soft white sunlight that shone through the glass window.

Dear birundasih, dear,

I don't know what else to say except that I couldn't sleep last night because I knew it was over between us.

It's a different feeling to me, one I never expected, but looking back, I guess it couldn't have ended any other way.

You and I are different. We come from a different world, but you are the one who taught me the value of love. You showed me what it's like to take care of others, and I became a better man because of it. I don't want you to forget that.

I was not hurt because of what happened. On the other side. I'm sure knowing that what we have is real, and I'm glad we can get together even for a short time.

And if, somewhere far away in the future, we meet each other in our new lives, I will do it, smiling at you happily, and remember how we spent our holiday season under trees, learning from each other and growing in love.

And maybe, for a moment, you'll feel it too, and you'll smile back, and enjoy the memories we'll always share together.

I love you, Birundasih.

Quid

He read the letter again, this time slower, then read it a third time before putting it back in the envelope.

Again, he imagined him writing it, and for a moment he argued with himself to read another, but he knew he could not delay any longer. Ali was waiting for him.

His legs felt limp as he stepped out of the car. He stopped and took a deep breath, and as he began to cross the parking lot, he realized he was still unsure what he was going to say to Ali.

And the answer didn't come until he reached the door and opened it and saw Ali standing in the lobby.