BLACK BIRDS IN MAHLA'S EYES
Father Samone

The man corrected the amethyst-encrusted cross necklace around his neck, after closing the church door and walking through his vast, grassy courtyard. As a priest, Father Samone was known as a kindly godly man. His tall stature was large, inversely proportional to the sympathetic smile that kept on leaning on his lips as he spoke. He said it was smooth and full of gentleness, making the religious figure to be quite respected in their village.

“Father, any time for a minute?” Call someone behind him. The man who called out to her was wearing a typical flannel shirt of farm clothes with a black hat wrapped around his head. The priest nodded in response, so the man who called him rushed over. After their close proximity, Father Samone could smell the distinctive aroma of cloves that were widely grown in their village, coming out sharply from the man's body.

“Bapa remember Mahla?” Asked the man who seemed to be in his late fifties, Father Samone realized the man was one of his most frequent attendees in the church. The priest nodded at a glance before answering his question.

“Sure I remember the girl, Jerry. She and her mother are one of the congregations as devout as you, but I haven't seen her in weeks. Does he hurt?” Father Samone asked the man called Jerry. It is not strange that among the villagers know each other, the village they live in is not too big.

Jerry shrugged his shoulders grimly. “I think so, Father. They no longer allow people

visit to his house.” Jerry replied later.

The priest frowned at Jerry's words, he had indeed heard the news that Mahla was a special girl that many people visited from day to day. It is said that the girl can convey a message from the spirits to her family. All this time, it never bothered him because, really, there are indeed children who are born with special talents. In addition, the girl named Mahla was also known to be very gentle and kind.

“Maybe the family has their own reasons, Jerry. There are things that should be left alone, people should no longer bother Mahla and start letting go who will never come back.”  Reply Father Samone calmly. The priest walked leisurely to the tiny house behind the church, where he lived. Jerry followed the priest without a word coming out of his mouth.

“There's something you want to say, Jerry?” Father Samone's question caught the uneasiness from Jerry's face. The man whose face was overgrown with a thick grey beard that was the same color as his hair nodded doubtfully.

“Father, I live very close to their house, there, I often see Mahla, just stay on the edge of the window on the second floor. His gaze was blank, and his body was like a stone sculpture. Stiff and pale.” Jerry said, taking a deep breath. “I went picking cloves with my son, until we finished drying the cloves, in the evening, the girl was still there.” Take her relationship seriously.

Samon's father pulls the lock on his house and lets Jerry in. The room in his house was only a simple room containing only cots, prayer altars, a small table where Father Samone used to spend the offerings of his people, as well as a kitchen that only contains a furnace and a cupboard containing plates and cups of cups. On the other hand there is one small door that leads to the toilet behind the house.

Jerry inhaled the soft scent of camphor that greeted him as soon as the door was opened. Father Samone guided him inside and invited him to sit in simple chairs on both sides of the table.

“You want tea, Jerry? Coincidentally I got a bag of lavender tea from Merope, you know her, right? Yeah, nice old lady down the street here. This tea is good enough to relieve my headache and make me sleep well at night." Father Samone offered Jerry, striking a small kettle at a corner table.

Jery who saw there was only a tiny furnace there, nodded his head politely.

“Father, instead of me being suspicious of Marya's family, I have been neighbors with her for decades. But, Father, the family was very strange and secretive. I knew Marya's grandmother, the woman was even the strangest among their families. He even handed out gris-gris* he said to refuse reinforcements or the like. My own family won't accept it, Father!” Jerry exclaimed quickly as he saw Father Samone raise his eyebrows next to him.

“Yes, I quite know who Magdalene Yosiah is, Jerry.” Sahut Father Samone. Magdalene Josiah was the great-grandmother of Mahla who died more than twenty years ago, but her name is still spoken of today. The woman was famous for her kindness, she made many donations, until their village could establish a church and a simple pastoral.

Magdalene was also socially active helping the people of the village, most of whom were poor families. He distributed food at least once a week in his spacious yard. People are free to take chickens, eggs, or milk to their homes that are never closed.

The situation continued throughout the year, until the day Marya married a missionary, the usually crowded house of Magdalene became quiet and gloomy.

Father Samone remembered well the first time he had his parish in the village, twenty-five years ago, it was Magdalene Josiah who greeted him in the front row. The silver-haired old woman truly exuded a brilliant aura. Uniquely, he openly claimed to be a pagan, but Magdalene was very supportive if the Catholics in her village had their own church that deserved.

“Father knows, he's a pagan.” Jerry said pagan as if those words were so poisonous that he shuddered while saying them. “My own father is convinced that he is a witch.” Jerry continued, looking into Father Samone's eyes, looking for support there.

The sound of the boiling water kettle jerking the two of them, Father Samone got up and immediately brewed the lavender tea he had poured into the two small glasses on the table. “Minum, Jerry. Sorry, there's no food I can offer you.”

Jerry nodded in thanks, before continuing his words. “Father, I know Marya is a believer. Everyone knew how she and her husband were godly people who had always been a church family. She was different from her grandmother, Father!"

Father Samone sipped his tea carefully, waiting for the continuation of Jerry's speech which seemed to have been on the tip of the tongue, but did not dare to be issued. “Actually what's bothering you, Jerry? You can't be sitting here if nothing unsettles you.” Father Samone asked in a slightly urgent tone. He did not like Jerry's facial expression which seemed to turn dark when talking about Magdalene Yosiah and her family.

“Father, is Father not worried that Mahla is also a witch like her great-grandmother?”

Father Samone put down his teacup hard. “Do not ever spread false news, Jerry.” Tegur Father Samone firmly. He knows Mahla is a special girl, but the witch is clearly a serious accusation that could have taken the child's life if the fanatics heard her.

“I think Father should check it once in a while.” Jerry's proposal never gave up. “Well, if the word witch is a little exaggerated, how about I say, she is under the influence of other creatures on her body. Have you ever heard the news of the black birds in Mahla's eyes?” Pushed Jerry again. Father Samone shook his head softly, while Jerry grinned at the priest triumphantly.

No more than a second their eyes met, Father Samone was like seeing a flash of fire dancing in Jerry's eyes.