Srinayu On the Hill of Randu
Chapter 1 | The Time Scroll

The blue donker TAXI slowed down, stopping right in front of a simple bus stop. The night wind was blowing, soft, welcoming the arrival of a young man who had just stepped out of the sedan. For a moment the figure hesitated to step foot— thought of his actions which could have been the biggest mistake in life—when about to go to the stop. An old newspaper drifting slowly tried to block him. The sheet that revealed many things through the mute words on his body, now became meaningless like trash. But, right now if it wasn't that thing, who else cared about his arrival, his soul was being squeezed into disrepute. It was as if he had known far-reaching bad intentions at the bottom of his heart. But it did not last long, for what to care about a piece of used newspaper butut, the decision was unanimous.

The state of the stop is very sad, one of the two light balls is no longer functioning at all, while the other is only able to blink sickly. But enough if only to attract the attention of a night insect who is now adoring him. The iron pillar of the roof seems to be starting to rust, exacerbated again by the chair that feels a bit of a reot and decorated with various looks of irregular graffiti. Starting from paint spray pilok, signature carvings, nicks symbol, shoes footprint marks, to eccentric words; 'mom's love for beta', 'Nurmala please miss me always', 'ruwo', 'cut my chest' and the like. Adding to the deep blue concern about the blue chair. There is still more, at the end of the row of seats there is a puddle of brownish yellow water, which is the result of rain pouring through a small hole in the ceiling roof. On the floor that began to crack, also scattered various types of garbage. There was a nut shell, duku rind, candy wrappers, cigarette butts, and most disgusting, a patch of yellowish snot water that seemed soon to be drying out.

If there were more houses around, at least the gloom would have diminished a little. In fact, buildings that stand more dominated by office buildings that will turn quiet at night, and leave only a little lighting even, sometimes left to roll. The location right behind the stop itself is a former post office building that is no longer maintained. He looks sadistic and haunted. Not a single light shone there. The yard began to be overgrown with shrubs and moult plants. People often use it as a landfill. Anyone who looked at it, especially at night would definitely feel a mystical impression. It evokes a creepy imagination. The voice of the woman's moans is also her laughter, the cry of the baby, the murmur of the humming of a bobby nina like a mother to the baby, the shards of glass, the rustling of falling objects, the whispers of fine whispers. No need to close your eyes. In the mind, in the head, it is just implied.

The moon is crawling up, the sign of the night getting late. There were no signs of life other than the night bugs, the squeaky shrieks of crickets, and the occasional squeaky grievance. Other dark repellents only appear a few street lights that glow dimly. Some managed to touch the sides of the inside of the stop, giving a perfunctory illumination. His radiance is no longer reliable, but still forcing his aging self to always glow. With the generosity of the moon, the noble task of lifeless things was a little helped. All night stand shoulder to shoulder until waiting for the arrival of morning. However, if by chance the moon is sick, it is over.

One hour he was adrift waiting, not a single night bus crossing the bus stop. Beneath him, the water flowing within the sewer sounded quite clear. Meanwhile, the time shows at 00.13 in the morning, the time when the moon is at the peak of its splendor, the time for the nature of the humans in general to fall asleep. No wonder the night is so quiet, it even feels gripping. Not to mention the weather conditions that have been difficult to guess lately.

The look on his face was getting more erratic, and his breathing occasionally gushed, accompanied by a thin white smoke vapor. The hospitality tonight is testing her body. How cold. He also increasingly close the embrace of the black jacket that is wrapping his body tonight.

Some parts of the joints began to feel tired, therefore his back was upheld, and both hands functioned as jacks, which were propped up on the edge of the waist bone. At about the same time, accidentally fingers of his right hand touch a hard object tucked behind the waist circle blue jeans gray. The thing that had been forgotten, inscribing another unexpected plan, if death is better, he thought crazy.

It was not difficult to bring out a knife from his hiding place. Light brown, as well as the color of the sheath that protects the blade. No carving at all. The shape is similar to badik.

For a moment he was pensive, his eyes deep into the sky. Then he unzipped a large black backpack. Inside were a pot, mini cauldron, thermos, matches, kerosene, coffee, instant noodles, toothbrush, flashlight, and a few strands of clothes. A kind of supplies needed for a long trip to the middle of the forest. Perhaps this young man was a wild adventurer. Or maybe a fugitive in-law. The inside of the bag, but apparently, he did not find the thing he was looking for.

The low cry of the cs cricket was heard again with the roar of the sewer stream, the young man tried to calm himself; close his eyes, breathe fresh air many times, and let out a long sigh. Once again he tried to think clearly, diving into the darkness in the heart, hoping to find a diamond jewel in between his life story that had been terseh. However, they did not find a satisfactory reason.

After five tense minutes, here's the decision. The grip of his left hand slowly pulled on a protective sheath.

A sharp glistening blade stuck right at his left wrist. Cross each other with large veins. Even if only a small friction, will cause the blood vessels that resemble a small rubbery hose that spouts a fresh deep red liquid.

The screams from inside the got sounded hysterical. But what does that mean, it's just a bunch of mice that are getting drunk on romance.

"WHATEVER your problem is, this is not the best way...!" A young man said in a fiery tone, his eyeballs glazed over. Reminds the figure of a candidate leader when making a speech; indulging in spirit, the promises of tomorrow will be more beautiful, safe sentosa blah. Now he is trying to free someone from the shackles of the longing of the shadow of death. Her hair is mohawk-style, painted red. The whole body is decorated with various kinds of funkyman trinkets; bicycle chain necklaces, spiked steel bracelets, rings in all his fingers, chin pierced, red handkerchiefs tucked in the back pants pocket, etc, also a row of earrings on both earlobes, even on his eyebrows as well. Complete everything to the tip of the foot, even the amount is excessive. This guy has made his body like an accessories store. However, as the saying goes, the outer skin does not always represent the contents in it, or do not look at the book from the cover, as well as in judging a funkyman.

"Agreed..." The desperate young man who was about to slice his own arm, admitted that his actions were wrong.

"That's for sure!" the funkyman.

But, "I'm not so sure," the desperate young man suddenly changed his mind in an instant.

"Life is this short you can't live it" said funkyman.

As the nickname suggests, funkyman, maybe for this person, all the problems of life will also seem funny, funky. Nothing is bad in this life. Life is simple. Life is a fun thing. Full of jokes and laughter. Funny, funny looks.

"Shortly solid, yet qualified," jolted the desperate youth.

"Ha ha ha... Smart talk." Funkyman felt something funny. "But your way of thinking is stupid... How do you know this is over?"

"When he liked the lucky man," a desperate young man immediately snatched the question. "My presence there was only to witness the intimacy of the two of them. While I was shivering in the cold, my mind was showered with shadows about the friendly pose of the two of them while taking off. It was as if he was happy enough with a warm coffee and a cigarette in hand. Not to mention the bad mosquitoes. I better go away__"

"So far as the afterlife" cut the funkyman.

"I was just trying to hide from this world. One of them, in the middle of the wilderness... No need to go far, on this island there are also many large forests. Even better when equipped with mountains or hills. Oo yeah.., one more, lake."

"Hm... Just because of women... Love's..."

The desperate youth shook his head as if disapproving. "Actually, more than that... Very long when told... But, ah, the most important thing is that I want to escape from this world. I'm tired."

The funkyman tilted his head, making the small rings hanging on his earlobes swinging. "mmm... Didn't you really want to head to the wilderness...?"

The desperate young man rubbed his earlobes. "Themes different. Not to isolate yourself. Different from my intentions tonight."

"Ha ha ha..," the funkyman laughed indistinctly. "Why not just like this. Arriving in the forest you disappear from the entourage, suppose you are deliberately lost. I know exactly the wilds there, enough to meet the requirements to realize your intentions..." Then he looked at the clear night sky, his secret words as if they were hiding and scattered behind the gray white clouds that were marching. "Even you get two chances, reclaim the girl of your dreams and, if you fail, just go ahead with the second plan. Plan B. Backup plan. Whatever the name is, it's up to you. Plan Z can be."

"Decapitalist," the hopelessly excited young man chimed in, "Truly unthinkable to me."

Funkyman-looking men look proud, the idea can be quite entertaining. Then his face turned serious. "Life is a choice. That's why you have to make more than one choice. Plan A and plan B. I'd like to add plan Z too."

Unmitigated praise that the funkyman got from Randu, "Genius...!"

"Hmm.., when likened to the proverb, 'If you want to die, prepare the best crate'. Even if you want to give up, find the best way. Best time and place. You know why...?"

"No."

"Because the last chance often comes at the last moment. In the crucial moment. When time leaves a fraction of a second. So, always leave one bullet when you want to go home, because the hunt has not really ended before stepping on the stairs."

"But, as I recall my house is not neighborly..."

"It's just a proverb." Thick-witted. Funkyman scratching his head.

"Yes I know."

"Seriously, I'm kidding."

"Yes I believe."

"But why scratched his head earlier."

"Do you want to feel the soles of my leather shoes...?"

The conversation is back serious.

"But baby, it's too late. The group had left one day ago, at dawn" said the desperate young man limp.

Semisterius his arrival, the funkyman still harbors a surprise. "For me it's not too late...." Then for a moment watch the situation around. Looking left right, like the style of a thief. Before speaking, he looked at the young man in deep despair, not wanting these words to be missed in the least. Then whispered softly, "This is not just a proverb. I'm talking about the real meaning. Meaning literally... I can turn back time for you..."

A desperate young man begins to assume this mysterious funkyman is an insane man. Maybe that's true. Slowly he realized this irregularity.

"What's yourjob? A philosopher...? Ha ha ha. Your appearance is not at all supportive." Feeling the time was wasted, the desperate young man was a little resolute, "Sorry! I'm still sane enough to respond to your nonsensical talk." Imagined by the desperate youth, what kind of drugs has this funkyman downing. Dosage that has been thrown into his body. But I'm no better than him...

The cold night was warmed by the talk of two young men of the same age who might be called warm.

The funkyman-looking man was just a mangosteen hearing his offer being harassed. He was so calm to accept the rejection from the friend he had just known a few minutes ago. "Everything needs to be proven. If this was just nonsense, you wouldn't have suffered any significant losses either. Conversely, if it can happen, you can reap the benefits," and once again the funkyman retries the offer, "How ma__"

The funkyman had not yet finished his sentence, a bus came from the east. This opportunity is used by men in black jackets to delay the first feeling of despair. He rushed to escape. For a time his spirit of life was brought back.

"It seems like our conversation should end soon. Waiting for a night bus is not something easy and fun. In the next hour there is not necessarily a vehicle that passes in front of this stop. Unable to get the bus to escape into exile, I was forced to go home. Good bye, guys!" The desperate young man who had intended to end his life, immediately closed the conversation by saying goodbye to his interlocutor.

Funkyman was not willing to give up, for the last chance, he shouted out loud, "If you change your mind, just say it in your heart! I can hear your wishes. Yes... in your heart...!"

"Not bother. But you deserve this, thank you so much, man!"

AROUND 04.15am, Randu's eyes were suddenly closed by the sound of his selluller phone call, which was placed on the right edge of the room wall. In his semi-conscious state he fumbled over the surface of the red carpet, which became the only white ceramic floor separator with his mattress. After some indiscriminate movement, the thing sought was finally able to be found.

"Yes...?"

Inside the phone, someone spoke in a hurry, "Hey! Are you sure you canceled your participation with us?"

"What do you mean...?" It seemed like Randu had yet to understand what the caller had just said. "Don't you guys have left one day ago...?"

"It turns out you haven't fully realized. Should I wait for you to wash your face first...? It's Monday, October 3rd. In about an hour we leave. Did you forget our plan!?" Reply to the caller.

Monday, October 3rd...? Pandu is getting confused. "Isn't it emp__'s date"

"Quick decide. Are you coming or not? I'm not really sure you're not interested in joining, which is why I'm calling you again. Hope you change your mind," urged the caller. "Don't think too much about preparation. As if."

Changed mind...? Soon Randu decided—ia recalled her introduction to a mysterious man a few hours ago—t want everything to be really late. "Yes I'm coming ... Definitely ... Just wait there..." But something was strange, he thought.

A group was preparing for departure. One by one the items were raised into the back trunk of the dark green Land Trooper.

Thank goodness, right up. Sandu accelerated his pace.

"That's it...!" screech someone while pointing towards Randu. A pretty little girl. Name's Dira.

"His presence is quite a relief," said Janur. This young man called Randu. Asking Randu to reconsider his decision, which would cancel his participation.

"I'm here, man," said Randu as he approached.

"The decision is right.., ." - Timpal Janur.

"We'll fly away, Randu!" cheers Dira excited. "Away..a long way!"

"If you don't come, you'll regret it for life" added a man in his fifties. His stature was skinny, his suit was neat, and his mustache was thick. Then grab Randu's luggage. "This is all that's left of you...?"

Dira continued to smile happily. They are beautiful, like roses welcoming the morning sun. Something that had stuck in his heart for days, this morning vanished.

"Yes, that's it," replied Randu. "Thank you, Mr. Malih."

Janur enthusiastically welcomed the arrival of Randu, as well as Dira who had first seen his appearance. The others.., just stared in silence. The stretcher!

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Glossaries

whiskers: rats