Srinayu On the Hill of Randu
Chapter 7 | Mysterious Family

MORNING awakens life, including to young people who are sleeping lying unconscious in the middle of a stretch of agricultural land. The weather was still quite cold, but up there the sun slowly began to spread warmth. His eyes were closed, narrowed as a beam of light tickled his eyelids, and reflexively his arms were trying to fend off the small attack. Then his body slowly moved. For him, it feels very stiff, like a pile of rocks.

After being sure of his condition, he tried to crawl, then sat up straight.

It was like waking from a long sleep. Oh, what happened, where am I...? Then look around. In the pepasiran, splattered blood almost dried up.

He felt his head that felt sore, on his palm he found crusts of deep red. It seemed, someone had attempted murder against him. Luckily he was still safe. The perpetrator probably thought the victim was dead.

His body was now completely upright standing, despite having a moment's worth. Soon his kiss felt something. The longer, the more pronounced the aroma became. The fragrance of the aroma of dried apples, as it has become a flying powder, swarms in to fill the cavity of the olfactory wall. Drowns all over the body, until the bone marrow can feel it. There is a slight sweetness when it comes at the base of the throat. Freshness is maintained, almost no different when chewing it while on the stalk. The rest is implied alloy of various types of floral fragrances that blend into one. What a fragrance that has never been felt before.

With a gontai step, he tried to find the source of the fragrance. His footsteps were dragged. Sweep sand and gravel, blow away the fine dust. Occasionally through uneven and bumpy ground. Some are overgrown with grass, the rest are almost neatly arranged like agricultural land. There are carrots, watermelon, chili, sweet potatoes, cassava, several types of medicinal plants, and various other plants.

The leaves were partly still wet with the rest of the dew last night. However, soon it seems to be drying up, considering the sun up there is rising.

"It's a processed soil..," he murmured as he pulled the banana leaf midrib, made a puddle of water flow slowly, then fell dripping on the instep. The setand fruit is golden yellow, but that does not mean it has been cooked. Because it's a Golden Banana.

A few steps later, he was shocked by a sight that left him stunned. As if I could not believe what was in front of him.

A figure scattered beauty dancing gracefully surrounded by birds that are busy spinning their memories. Her long shiny black hair, waving fur blown by the first gentle breeze that came in this morning. The wind is still holy, from dust or whatever it is. Antakusuma clothes based on pink toorangean bobbing following his movements that gurgle. While his subordinates in the form of a wide skirt in bright red, the sheer length of the foot, with a beautiful lace decoration leaving the edge, fluttering to and fro as if to precede the motion of the body to fly higher. And, her white skin was radiant as if defiantly not to be outdone in the face of the brightness up there. The owner was intentionally showing it off.

Stretcher slightly lowered his head to confirm something. Still touching the ground, he thought. The legs of the ladder are erotic, prancing like a rhythm. Awesome, beautiful charm spread. Until finally, a pair of beautiful round eyeballs were thrown out, jumping high, and right into the heart of Randu. Randu was now looking clear, he was caught red-handed. Blood circulation in the body becomes irregular. A raging red storm blew away the dance of the waves. Vision is clouded, it is powerless against all. Angel...?! ... I am dead ... It's paradise... Heaven is for sinners.

AKH.... Where am I? I... this is my grandmother's room. I'm in. my hometown. In a sitting state, on a simple bed Randu confusedly observed his surroundings. Her feelings are shahdu, feeling home. But, no. He felt a little foreign. There's something different out there. Through the window before him, why did it only reveal a vast expanse of land and plantations. It should have seen two buildings standing, as it had in its memory of its homeland. He jumped to his feet, before finally realizing that his head was now wrapped in a white cloth. Didn't care much. Then hurried to step out of the room, forgetting his weakened state. And, it turns out that he has indeed come back strong.

Entering a room, there was no one. Silent and somewhat dimly dark. Only a small array of sunlight that barges in utilizing the gap of the wall into a makeshift illumination. In the middle of the room there is a complete arrangement of tables and chairs; four wooden chairs surrounding a table. The shape of one of the chairs is three times longer than the other. Based on his observations, there was nothing he knew in this room. Really in a foreign place. Embolden yourself, then step up, walk slowly checking the situation.

Although his footing had been cautious, the occasional wooden floor still squeaked, accompanied by a heartbreaking groan. His breath and steps stopped for a moment.

Safe, thought. He stepped again. Surround the whole room.

And now it looks by him, the position to the right of his room there was a room, but the size is smaller. Then on the left there is also a room with almost the exact same size, but without a dividing wall on the front, and that means there is no door. Then he approached to the right.

"The bathroom." Then go to the other room.

"Kitchen..."

The cooking room, the base of the floor protrudes down to direct contact with the surface of the ground, with five stairs as wide as the room in lieu of a dividing wall. A unique stage house.

From the corner near the kitchen, from behind the chairs and the wooden table in front of him, he walked back to the center. Step slowly, be more careful, and his alertness is increased.

He recalled another part he had forgotten earlier, which looked like a passageway. On either side, there was each one of the rooms flanking him, of exactly the same size. Without a second thought, he dashed lightly through it.

He had been three steps away from the doorway entering a short passageway. On his left right is a row of small golden-yellow coffers. It is certain that the material is pure copper. Each of the two small coffers is limited to a coffer that is twice the size. On it too, on a long wall shelf, rows of small candles were burning and dancing restlessly. He stepped again, while continuing to observe the scenery that honestly seemed magical.

And now, he was dealing with a living room it seemed. But there is a different, here is the place of Lesehan, without chairs and tables. A red rug lay in the middle. The knit is made up of two giant birds circling a fiery circle. Then his eyes hit the wall of the board on the left. It looks like the top half of the plows is about one meter high, making the air flow freely here. Not to mention the large windows that are wide open. How breezy.

Faintly heard the sound of the flute. As soon as you touch the heart. Tapping on the soul wrapped in a blanket of anxiety. The groove is more like a flute. The sweet heart. The longer, the clearer the sound; the tone structure and character of the sound. He was trying to find out where it came from.

In the back, where he had originally woken up on the bed, near the farm, there was a possibility. So he decided to get out of this building, through the last exit. The door in the living room.

The soles of his right foot touched the ground for the first time as it passed the last rung of the ladder. What a beautiful view out here. A row of beautiful flowers containing simple pots that surround the yard of the house, as well as small green plants such as mini bongsai, palm beach and its neighbors. The flute still continues to sound. Then the incision followed the sound of laughter. Sounds innocent and happy, spoiled and carefree, also soothing. Sometimes the voices are heard far away, drowning, like the wind is playing with the direction of its destination. Not too late, he rushed to run.

He circled the building in the form of a stilt house. Run hunting, heading towards the back. In the middle of the step, on the left side a glance looks a rooster cage, also a pile of various objects, especially typical of agricultural areas. There are dimples, tampa, and others. Pretty attention grabbing.

A few more steps back of the house building stage will be passed soon. The voices, everything was getting clearer.

His steps suddenly came to a halt, as did the flute's blow. Not wanting to freeze in curiosity, he ventured to walk closer. An old man in his fifty years welcomed him with a gentle look and a warm smile. Before long, the laughter stopped. Randu turned to the right, seen a mother— who seems four five years younger than the father was— was staring at him anyway, along with a girl with the remaining lip curvature of laughter that almost disappeared.

It was not a good afternoon greeting that should have been said by Randu, but he was silent in silence. From the flickering of his eyes seemed pleading; explain all this. Before everything was answered, the shadow of a young girl before she fell unconscious again accompanied to fill her head. That girl...!?

Someone passed by Randu this afternoon. In the right corner, parallel to the hallway door, there was a rocking chair. It looks so classic, looks so old. The color is brownish fading. The right edge of the arm support begins to erode termites, but still looks charming, although it seems a little creepy. Turning in the distance out there, only a pitch-black scene appeared. There is no other life than this house.

Every now and then, Randu's eyes steal the sight of the beautiful girl who is almost right in front of him. That angel from earlier was busy knitting, no matter the day was dark. His smile would pop out at any moment, but not to anyone. Maybe to the knit, or indeed he often acts like that.

The eating equipment is neat. Jade green ceramic plates are somewhat messily arranged in terraced, and some have contained side dishes. The shape is soft-squares with eight, like a flower petal. When placed in the darkness, it will reflect bright light shimmering, because it has properties like cat's eyes. There are about nine of them all. The bowl looks simple. Made of clay that is formed accordingly. Then the glass, although made of wood, but looks quite valuable. Engraved with sincere intention, with enjoyment while making it. The creator must be satisfied to produce this work. It's about the height. The bottom conical before finally cut off creating a circle of six centimeters in diameter, surrounded by small legs that protrude out.

Sandu forgot to control his eyes. The angel seems to be more inviting to taste than various side dishes.

"Ehm..," the old man mendeham. He is Mr. Linggih, the head of the household. The owner of this stage house. Together with his two wives, they settled in the middle of this wilderness. The only one, only them. "Let's have the food tasted," please kindly. His character reminds me of the slogan 'men have taste'. Masculine, handsome very male, elder keladi, and charismatic.

The stupid face of Randu accompanied in response to the offer. "Yes, thank you, sir." Without a smile, but not arrogant, nor plain. Randu became a dazed man now, to the proper name for him now; 'a directionless man'. Sadness, the treasure of his pride was somewhere now. Totally invisible. Really living life as it is. All the burdens disappeared.

"We are a simple family, this is all we can present," continued Mr. Linggih by humbling himself, making small talk.

The always unpleasant taste is also lost on Randu. He does not respond with a series of expressions of regret or misbehavior. See what he did; without much ado, immediately take the plate and fill it with side dishes. So cuey. That was his response, behaving like a person who had not met food for a long time. It's no different than the bums who are invited to spend the rest of the party menu. Or it's a form of respect, can't hurt others. Disappoint.

After finishing preparing the dish, Mrs Srining—his wife Mr. Linggih—hut sat together to enjoy dinner. "Come, Nayu eat first. It will be continued again," with a wise smile advising his daughter. In the world of fables, this elderly mother must be a bird of paradise that is famous for its elegance charm. Randu even had made him embarrassed, the moments of time coincidentally were looking face to face. That cheek, that adorable red cheek.

Ah, if he was young, complained Randu—in his world neatly wrapped by dark—t can not stand to stem the turmoil of the heart. The disease of young blood. Or, just a kind of disorder that belongs to a few people. Interested in older women.

Nayu's lips slightly singed a smile, looking spoiled. But it does not melt its maturity and elegance. Perhaps this is one of the evolutionary ways of behaving, maximizing abstract beauty, or contrast. Although opposite, between the properties of one with the other does not kill each other, colliding. Complete each other. Thus, a new term was born: 'Adult Marijuana.'

Then, the mother poured him a plate of white rice, the portion of the girl. "Wood. Will not larghi or hilakng your favorite thing wasuu," his advice once again with a clutch and accent similar to the state next to the border that sounds very obvious; the square, typical letter r, n drowned, emphasis gh, the, long at the end of the word. It's so delicious to hear. Thick malay logat. Not much different from the local accents of the inhabitants of this island in general. How not, just separated by imaginary lines, national borders. One land, one land, one island.

The rice, the smell is thick, the smell is pandanus. So does the taste, no less delicious. Legit, plus disguised coconut milk flavor. What a perfect concoction. Everything was. The side dishes are simple for city people, but here it feels luxurious. Ms. Srining do not-don't have magic powder—like belongs to the dwarves cooks, the inhabitants of merang— mushrooms that have been sprinkled on all food.

'Paghraang, kaghraang. I'm a lot of hutaaaaangh, can't afford kutanh...' Long, continued and continued to echo within Randu's head.

RANDU occupies a new room, a room that is located face to face with the kitchen. Not his room this afternoon, which was actually the bedroom of Pak Linggih and Bu Srining's husband and wife. Once Randu arrived, this long unoccupied room, immediately cleaned, tidied up, reorganized in such a way by the owner of the house. In the room, on a wooden couch, Randu was showered with various thoughts. It was past midnight and he could not close his eyes. Sleep away from him. Therefore he was still faithful in his sitting, looking at the wall of the board like a painting.

Strange longing lolled out, whether on what or who. This is a foreign place in his hometown. Then his vague feelings infused with the pulse of unrest. The return of the frightening feeling from his childhood, his past. He was afraid his happiness would end. Always thinking about tomorrow. Always hope that time does not turn. Because the time he knew, always took away his happiness, so that he left the hometown that he loved so much, dear close people.

The memories of childhood are very unforgettable by Randu. People who miss the past. He was a young man who had taken away his childhood. He is still trapped in the past. He was still thirsty for all that. That madness made him brittle, weathered, hollow, silent, walking in place.

Now, being in the middle of the family he had just known, imagined the terrible thing about the family. The influence of the film he had watched was difficult to separate in influencing him to judge others. Maybe because he is a true connoisseur of the film world. His taste for art exceeds that of man in general. Often unconscious found himself living the incarnation of a character, character, actor. Feeling the surroundings change following the plot of the scene in the film.

Why did it get to a place like this...?! Friendly family, normal life as in general, but inserts mystery. If they were a group of stealth families; werewolf incarnations or something...? Or maybe Mr Linggih is a big class fugitive? Where did they come from? Randu was not in the end. Looks like he'll spend the night trying to solve the puzzle. He also had to hit his head, in order to force an answer.

They haven't asked me at all. It's quaint...

Soon a pungent smell poured into the room, exhaling supernatural whispers. Then came the swearing of crickets from a distance, containing the temple command to end the night as soon as possible; the song of the bobbin that seduced Randu to immediately lay down his body and close his eyes.

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Glossaries

antakusuma: clothes from flowery cloth, magic clothes.

cheering: edge or edge of the plate, tray, plate, letter etc. which seems to be a column or pias.

fable: the world of animals, animals (who can speak like humans).