What a Beautiful Divorce
68. Indian Police

Prapto and Nimo feel to be the shortest people in a public airport located in Aurangabad, Maharashtra, India. They just got off the plane and are looking for someone whose face is on Prapto's phone.

Nimo looked around with her sunglasses that she bought when she just arrived in Brazil. "People here are very tall, Boss, there are many mustaches too" Nimo said.

Prapto laughs. "Many, too, who don't mustache. Let alone the children, none of them I saw moustached, Nimo."

"I used to have a mustache at birth, Boss" Nimo said, in a flat tone.

Prapto turned, "Eh? you serious, Nimo?"

Nimo laughs.

"Are you Mr. Prapto and Mr. Nimo?"

Prapto and Nimo turned to where the voice questioning them with English just came from. There stood a middle-aged man whose height was not much different from the two of them and wore a typical Indian head covering. The man then smiled and extended his hand.

"I'm Tri. I was asked by Ziko to accompany you to the remote place you want to go. Come on, let's get to the car!" bring a guy named Tri. He went ahead of Prapto and Nimo.

Somewhat far behind Tri, Prapto and Nimo walked while whispering. "You think he's Indian, boss?" ask Nimo.

"I'm not sure, Nimo. But the name Tri I saw was used in Indian films."

Nimo nodded. "But his face is not like an Indian, Boss."

"Please!" said Tri. He pointed to the blue car.

Prapto nodded and opened the car door. He sat on the front bench and Nimo sat on the back bench. Tri fixed the front rearview of his car for a moment, removed the handbrake, and the blue sedan then drove on the streets of Maharashtra.

Prapto and Nimo saw tall buildings along the way. Not much different from Jakarta, the place they now pass through is also densely built and many people. I don't know if there is a traffic jam or not, thought Prapto.

Since the car started speeding earlier, Prapto and Nimo both felt that they continued to be seen by Tri. Prapto looked at him with a slight turn, while Nimo saw him through the front view. They are lazy to open the conversation, because Tri himself has been silent since then while occasionally whistling a small song Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham.

Now their car goes through a long straight road, and Tri finally makes a sound. "You two want to study agriculture at that place, Prapto, Nimo?" the language is Endonesa.

"Eh?" Prapto and Nimo exclaimed in shock.

Tri looked to the side and smiled. "I'm an Endonesa too, precisely in Solo."

"Why didn't you say that, sir?" ask Prapto.

"So much more surprise, Prapto," replied Tri, laughing.

Prapto looked back, Nimo looking scrunched his face. They did not laugh, because Tri's words just now did not sound funny.

Knowing that his jokes did not cause laughter, Tri tricked him by asking, "The place is not so far away. But, did you guys make an appointment to meet the Old Man?"

"No, Sir. Mr. Ziko just said that we should look for him as soon as we arrive at the airport" Prapto replied.

Tri nodded. "I thought so," he said. "I don't think he'll be able to make an appointment with her. Maybe you've heard from Ziko that the Old Man is a strange person. I've taken dozens of peasants who want to study there, but they're rejected all."

"That's hard, Mr Tri?" asked Nimo in a surprised tone.

Tri nodded. "so. But, if you manage to get the science of farming and raising from the Old Man, I guarantee your crops will increase, and the harvest time will also be faster."

"Sir!" Nimo exclaims.

The sound of a whistle being blown loudly from behind. The three of them looked. At the intersection they had just passed, it appeared that a policeman had climbed onto his motorcycle.

"Damn," said Tri, laughing.

Prapto and Nimo look at each other because they are surprised to see Tri who instead laughs chased by traffic police. They looked back, the motorized policeman looked closer. The policeman was wearing a white helmet and sunglasses, and under his sunglasses, his thick whiskers were blown by the wind.

Tri then turned his car to the left when they met the T-junction. "Just relax, Prapto, Nimo, I know the path that allows us to escape" he said.

"The thick mustachioed police officer was getting closer, Mr. Tri," said Nimo who from earlier kept looking back.

Tri slowed his car down and turned quickly to the right, entering a small road flanked by tall buildings on his right left.

Nimo saw the police motor slow down because there was a vehicle passing in front of him. And after the police was again seen, at that time the motorbike siren sounded. Tri looked at his right rearview mirror, the policeman had already shortened the distance with them again.

"Are we able to escape smoothly, Mr Tri?" ask Prapto.

"I think I can" said Tri, grinning.

Prapto scrunched his forehead. His instincts said that Tri's grin just now was a sign that the man was going to do something surprising.

"Hold your benches strong!" exclaim Tri. Shortly after, he pulled the handbrake and slammed the strir. The blue sedan turned one hundred and eighty degrees and stopped.

Prapto could see how Tri was now staring intently at the police motorbike that was speeding towards them. After two cars passed by the side, each of whose drivers stared in astonishment, Tri grinned and stepped on the accelerator.

"What the fuck, Mr Tri?" yell Prapto.

"Don't be kidding, sir! Four more months I'm getting married, I've got rice." Nimo closed her eyes with both hands while praying.

Prapto looked at Tri with an anxious face. Neither Tri nor the thick-moustached police pack, seemed to have the slightest doubt even though they would collide if one did not dodge.  Tri's gaze grew sharper, he could see the corner of the mustache of the Indian policeman rising.

Little more the two vehicles were about to collide, the Indian police quickly dodged to the side and dropped himself in a safe manner.

Prapto and Nimo immediately heaved a sigh of relief. Behind them, Nimo sees the policeman just standing, but Tri has now turned the car into a smaller road and many interchanges.

"I'm sorry, Prapto, Nimo" said Tri. "My license letter is dead. If we get caught, I'll have to pay a big fine."

"It's okay, sir," said Prapto. His voice was still trembling with anxiety earlier.

"Can you smoke in your car, sir?" ask Nimo. His voice is still shaking too.

"Byeah, Nimo." Tri then pressed the button to lower the windshield.

***

The blue sedan Tri-driven car has now entered the dirt road on the right left of which grows many oak trees. Prapto looked out the windshield and smiled at the two squirrels running on the branch of one of the oak trees. He just took his eyes off the trees after Tri pulled the car brake.

The three of them got out of the car and were now on a vast expanse of green grass. Then their view turned to a small wooden house lined with rows of oak trees that looked like long alleys.

Wind blowing. The leaves of the yellowed tree floated down. Tri, Prapto, and Nimo murmured in awe at the sight of leaves falling in the middle of the breeze.

They had just turned their heads, when from behind the plank house appeared an old man carrying a fruit basket made of rattan. His back hair and long, white beard were fluttering in the wind. The old man stopped his steps and looked towards Prapto, Tri, and Nimo.