Travel Stories
I'll keep dancing on my own

The typhoon breathed heavily. His financial condition is too worrying. His journey to the mountain which resulted in a small incident with the ghost spirit of a kasmaran climber some time before actually almost spent the contents of his account. The group of 'former' girl the ghost's boyfriend recklessly and insist on taking the Typhoon to their city to make a pilgrimage to the tomb of Reva. They did pay for almost all of his expenses during that time, but there was clearly no possibility for them to give the fare home for the Typhoon, and he was still not so shameless as to ask for it. So now, you could say he's pretty broke...

'Huft, it looks like we should start looking for this job again...'

It had been a while since the young man had survived in this manner. Moving from one city to another, looking for and visiting various places that people think are worth visiting. With his shameless and unyielding character, Typhoon learned all kinds of things from every job he got, wherever he was. Although he has not been able to continue his formal education and become a scholar like the wishes of his mother, but at least he did not stop learning.

His steps stalled in a modern architecture building that gave a glimpse of what kind of business was done in that place. The typhoon did not care at all, he only noticed a sign reading "open vacancy" attached to one of his windows, and he immediately stepped in.

'What work, what is important dapet money deh.' his mind is happy.

...----------------...

As the night wore on, the nightclub grew more and more crowded, while the usually messy long-haired athletic figure seems to be so busy with various jobs behind the bar counter that it is so crowded with night connoisseurs, complete with neat clothes and tied hair.

"Rook, cut the lemon a little thinner..."

"Rook, grab that old fashion. No 17 ask for dry on the rock!"

"Rock, slice her skin twisted..."

As the beat of the music that accompanies visitors who try to enjoy the night in a band of music, the whisper of the bartender's strict orders continues to resonate with various terms that he just learned and as powerful as possible, Typhoon tried hard to remember everything he learned with passion. According to the club's owner and main bartender, Typhoon's job at the time the club opened was a Bush Boy, whose main task was to ensure that every need for the counter bar's backroom area was met, and it turned out to be quite a pleasant task. There was too much he could learn in this place, and Typhoon loved to learn.

"So Bartender does not mean just being a liquor maker, Rook, but rather on how to serve and ensure the art of drinking classy liquor. And of course, make sure that everyone who comes to you can enjoy what they want to enjoy without getting into too much trouble once they are conscious. And for sure, have wide open ears and a mouth that opens with strict rules. Remember Rook, no one likes to have their secrets exposed, especially when they're in an unconscious state because of booze..." said Mr. Budi last afternoon when he finally felt satisfied with the prospective new workers who came out of nowhere.

"This place is more like a private oasis for some people, and indeed it is not very open to everyone. So, whatever you hear, it would be better if you keep it to yourself" he added as the Typhoon nodded its head.

"And I never held back the knowledge and skills I could, Rook. How much you learn, you're welcome. And when u are ready, feel free to learn and try to make one. So, anything you want to ask maybe?"

"Anu, um, I don't speak English, sir. Is it papa?"

And Pak Budi laughed out loud after going through a long period with his mouth open. At length he explained various things to this slum gondrong youth and the question is whether it will be a problem if he can not discuss England?

"Ride, Pan. Then meet me in the club room. I'll be your teacher if you want to study seriously" he said after his laughter drained and left the young man he thought was attractive.

And soon, Typhoon gets a new nickname. Rook, the name pinned arbitrarily by Mr. Budi, short for Rooky, or a new child. Mr. Budi used to be a Captain Bar on one of the top cruise ships on the Caribbean sea route, which for some reason, eventually decided to stop and set up this small nightclub. But thanks to his ability, visitors to this place seems to be not a little, although it is as he said, as he said, most of the visitors of this place are familiar faces that will be easy to remember after a week or two.

And so far, even though even the night is up, Typhoon is really enjoying its new activities. As the years passed, as more and more glasses circulated and alcohol flowed through the various throats, Typhoon sank in a new world..

...----------------...

'What do you want me to talk to? Did you forget that my mouth likes to bark with various words at will, Ray?'

'But don't you feel sorry for Kay, Bo? He seems to need someone to talk to right now...'

'There are times when men have to endure it all themselves, Ray, and I think, this is one of those times. Kay must face all of this alone*...'

That gentle beautiful ghost could only sigh heavily. He did not know what happened when Kay entered the small house, but from the strong energy fluctuations that appeared, he knew that Kay had dealt with the spirits of his parents. Although after that, the young man in question came out of the house with a haggard and hollow face. And it had been almost more than half a day he had gone through staring blankly into the distance while repeatedly sighing heavily.

'*And Ray, my name is Arborite, not 'Bo' as you always yell from your little mouth!'

"Bodos!*"

...****************...

The journey of human life is heavy, Kay is aware of that. Many things cannot be revealed and sometimes, even to the people closest to you. Kay really understands concepts like this. But for now, Kay really felt like she had lost everything she had ever known before. The waves of knowledge and memory left behind from the spirits of his parents carried various burdens that seemed even unbearable and slightly changed and tainted Kay's memories of the two of them. He could understand when it came to his mother. All that gentle woman's understanding of the 'curse' that Kay had and all the affirming sentences and mental support to embrace her talent.

But dad???

He who keeps trying to get Kay to suppress and deny everything he sees and hears, tries to replace it with various approaches from measurable and proven science with numbers and experiments?!

The figure that keeps Kay feeling that she is abnormal, even crazy, to try to find various ways to explain herself???

Goddamnit!

The night grew older as Kay continued to curse and quarrel with her, constantly trying to find atonement for what she knew today, regardless of the transparent figures who seemed to also be arguing amongst themselves. His gaze was far beyond everything as his mind and heart continued to twist various memories and memories...

...----------------...

A wooden building that seems hidden from other settlements, it seemed to appear out of nowhere when the little girl turned from the cement-cast road she had passed before and began to enter a small path that was almost hidden by thickets. His braided hair flapped like a bird's wing when he knew he was close to his destination. Uninterrupted by the night's near-dense darkness, no street light could send a hint of light to the place, a hint of smile emerged from his lips as his hand grabbed the bamboo fence that was barely toppled in front of the hut.

"Grandmother, Ade came home." she said, turning her back and closing the bamboo gate when, unbeknownst to her, the cabin door behind her opened, it showed a deep, gloomy darkness without anyone being seen opening the door.

However the smile on the girl's face expanded even wider as she turned around, it was as if he had found someone he cared about waiting for him at the door as his steps accelerated towards the darkness that was waiting in the hut and entering it.

Slowly the door closed again, as if sealing all. Leaving behind the lamentation of the night insects and the sighs of the wind that did not stop flowing.