Bald-headed
Ch. 40

When I finished with the letter, I put it aside. I got up from my desk to look for my slippers, and found them near my bed, I had to sit down to wear them.

Then, I moved across the room and opened the door. I peeked into the hallway and saw Melisa sitting at the main table. At least I think it was Melisa. I had to go through her desk to get to Sugi's room, but at this hour I couldn't leave my room, and Melisa never broke the rules. Her husband is a lawyer.

I waited to see if he was going to leave, but he didn't seem to move, and I became impatient. I finally got out of my room, slowly-dragging, right-and-left, slowly-dragging.

It took him a long time to close the distance, but somehow he didn't see me approaching. I'm like a panther crawling in the woods, I don't look like a baby pigeon.

In the end I was caught off guard, but I wasn't surprised. I stood in front of him.

"Mrs Birundasih" he said, "what are you doing?"

"I went for a walk" I said. "I can't sleep."

"You know, you're not supposed to do this."

"I know."

But I'm not moving. I'm determined.

"You didn't really go for a walk, did you? You're going to meet Mr. Sugi."

"Yes" I replied.

"Miss, you know what happened the last time you saw her at night."

"I remember."

"Then you know you shouldn't be doing this."

I didn't answer right away. Instead I said, "I miss him."

"I know you like it, but I can't let you see it."

"It's our anniversary" I said. Lt's true. This was a year before gold. Forty-nine years today.

"I understand."

"Then can I go?"

He looked away for a moment, and his voice changed. Her voice was softer now, and I was surprised. He never hit me as the sentimental type.

"Mrs Birundasih, I have worked here for five years and I worked in another house before. I've seen hundreds of couples struggle with grief and grief, but I've never seen or dealt with anyone like you."

He paused for a moment, and strangely, his eyes began to glaze over. He wiped it with his finger and continued:

"I'm trying to think about how it feels to you, how you keep going day after day, but I can't even imagine it. I don't know how you do it. You sometimes beat the disease. Even though the doctors don't understand it but we the nurses do. It's love, simple as that. That's the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

There was a lump hanging down my throat, and I was speechless.

"But Madam, you're not supposed to do this, and I can't let you. So go back to your room." Then he smiled gently and picked up some paper on the table, he said: "I, I'm going down for coffee. I'm not going back to check on you for a while, so don't do anything stupid. ."

He got up quickly, touched my arm, and walked towards the stairs. He didn't look back, and suddenly I was alone. I don't know what to think. I looked over where he was sitting and saw his coffee, a cup full, still steaming, and once again I learned that there are good people in this world.

I felt warm for the first time in years as I began my journey to Sugi's room. I stepped up the size of a cola straw, and even at such a speed it was dangerous, because my legs were already getting tired.

I found out I had to touch the wall so as not to fall. The lights were buzzing overhead, the fluorescent glow made my eyes hurt, and I squinted a little. I passed through a dozen dark rooms, rooms I had read about before, and I realized that I missed the people inside. They are my friends, whose faces I know very well, and I will see them all tomorrow. Not tonight, because there is no time to stop on this journey.

I continued forward, and the movement forced the blood through the discarded arteries. I felt myself becoming stronger with each step. I heard the door open behind me, but I didn't hear footsteps, and I kept walking.

I'm a stranger now. I can't be stopped. The phone rang in the nurse's room, and I continued forward so as not to get caught. I was a midnight bandit, masked and fleeing on horseback from deserted desert towns, raiding the yellow moons with gold dust in my soft pockets. I am young and strong with desire in my heart, and I will break down the door and enter into his arms and ask him to take me to heaven.

Kidding around?

When I finally reached his room, my body was weak. My legs were wobbly, my eyes were blurry, and my heart was racing in my chest. I struggled with the knob, and in the end it took two hands and three trucks full of power. The door opened and the light from the passageway came in, lighting up the bed where Sugi was sleeping. I thought, when I saw it, I was just a pedestrian in a busy city street, forgotten forever.

His room was quiet, and he lay down with a blanket in the middle. After a while I saw her roll to one side, and her voice brought back memories of happy moments. She looked small on her bed, and as I watched her, I knew it was over between us. The air was stuffy and I was shivering. This place has become our tomb.

I didn't move, on our anniversary, for almost a minute, and I wanted to tell her how I felt, but I kept quiet so as not to wake her up.

I thought I heard someone coming, so I entered his room and closed the door behind me. The darkness fell and I crossed the floor to reach the window. I opened the curtain, and the moon stared down, big and full, night watchman.

I turned to Sugi who was dreaming a thousand dreams, and although I knew I shouldn't, I sat on his bed so I could slip a note under his pillow.

Then I reached out and gently touched her face, soft as powder. I stroked her hair, and my breath was taken. I was amazed, like a composer who first discovered Mozart. He moved and opened his eyes, narrowed his eyes softly, and suddenly I regretted my stupidity, because I knew he would start crying and screaming, because this is what he always did.

I'm impulsive and weak, this is what I know,

And when his lips met my hands, I felt a strange tingling that I had never felt before, in all these years together, but I did not withdraw.

And suddenly, a miracle, because I sensed that I had found a paradise forgotten, unchanging all this time, ageless like the stars.

I felt the warmth of his body, and when our gaze met, I let myself sneak in, just like I had experienced all those years ago. I gently traced her cheek line, then held her hand. I kissed her cheek, and listened as she took a breath. He mumbled softly, "Birundasih." Another miracle - the greatest of all!- and there was no way I could stop the tears as we began to look at heaven itself. For that moment...

I took out our wedding ring, not intending to wear it.

"Happy wedding day!" We say it simultaneously. Miracle again, we laughed.

And the miracle lasted for two hours, before I finally had to press the bell to call the doctor or nurse to Sugi's room in the morning blind.

I watched their busyness from the corner of the room with a trembling body and a wet face. A nurse came up to me, spoke slowly to me...

Leaving Sugi's room, I walked into the courtyard. The morning was cold, even for the dry season. The leaves sparkled under the sloping sunlight, and the air carried the faint scent of grass.

This, I remember, was Sugi's favorite time, and again, I felt so lonely.

I was feeding the goose when my daughter approached, and when she got to my side, she put the grocery bag on the ground. Inside were three loaves of bread. I always asked him to buy the same thing when he came to visit.

"Hello, Mom," she said.

Hearing his voice, I looked. "Hello, son," I said. "Thank you for stopping by."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"It could be better" I said. Then, with a mischievous grin, "But it could be worse too."

These are the words we always exchange in greetings. I patted the bench and he sat down next to me. I looked at the pool. The falling leaves resemble a kaleidoscope as they float on the water. The glass surface reflects the cloudless sky.

____________

I was eighty-three years old, a widow with curly hands due to arthritis, and precarious health. I carried a bottle of nitroglycerin pills in my pocket and suffered from stomach upset as well, but right now, the doctors are paying more attention to my mental state. 

They sat my daughter and I in the office the week before, and looked at us seriously. He had delusions, they told us, and the delusions seemed to be getting worse.

My own marriage had ended four months earlier, but cynics would say that her marriage had ended long before that. Sugi suffered from Alzheimer's in the last years of his life, a basically evil disease. This is a slow decipherment of all that someone has ever had. 

What would we be, without our memories, without our dreams? 

Watching his development was like watching a slow-motion movie of an inevitable tragedy. It's hard for my daughter and I to visit Sugi. My daughter wants to remember her father like she used to, and I never urge her to leave, because it hurts me too. 

🍁•••••

My name is Birundasih, now sleeping alone. 

Wearing a light blue cardigan sweater that had just been knitted by my daughter.