Four Women Whom He Loves

He comes in without knocking the door, as he always does; of course, interrupting, and annoying me, at the same time. “Look at this photograph,” he says. I pause from typing my story, and then move my head to his direction.

“Wedding photo?” I say.

“Last week I went to my friend’s wedding. We took a group photo with the bride and bridegroom. I’m in the back row, second from left.”

A Confession

“I’ve got something to share with you,” he says. “Let’s say this is a confession.”

He locks me right on the spot of a dark confession ward, which I know I don’t belong and never will be qualified to attend.

“There was a time, four years ago, I think, when I couldn’t imagine someone else was going to replace my position…”

He stops mid sentence.

Until You Come

Borus wakes up. Passing his study desk, he reaches for his mobile and searches for any message. “How was tonight’s meeting?” He’s reading the message from Hannah. This woman always texts him late in the night, doesn’t care whether the response she needs is urgent or not.

He texts the reply with the speed of Ferrari. “A ‘party’ is not a party without Hannah.”

When Borus returns from the bathroom, the reply message from Hannah has arrived: “It’s not a ‘party’ without Abang [older brother] Borus Komang.”

“It’s like you watch a movie for a thousandth time; you know all the scenes by heart, dialogue by dialogue. And when one scene missing you just know it; you get lost because the dialogue in your head doesn’t match with the one on the screen. It won’t be the same again until you restore the missing piece.” He types the reply and changes his clothes, word by word and piece by piece.

Two minutes later his mobile shrieks with the message tone. “Come on Borus. It’s still early in the morning, and you start playing words again to seduce and attract a woman?”

“You don’t attract love, Hannah: it comes to you, it chooses you because you deserve this honour.”

“Here you again, attempting to charm an innocent girl. Spare your words Mister, it’s still early in the morning! Give me the wing instead when the day is falling, and shadow of the night is fast approaching.”

“Whatever is true –the truth- is always charming and transforming. You could also say hypnotic.” He’s ready to leave for work.
*****

(Jakarta, 28 September 2009)

Hold My Heart Tightly

(Following short story was published in the Jakarta Post (with some edits), on Sunday, August 30, 2009.)
*****

“Hold my heart tightly,” Helena says, her eyes facing the man before her, “but, please, don’t hurt it.”

“I like the line,” Tegar stretches his lips, and tries to show half of his front teeth, whatever the gesture means; the line she’s just said penetrates his brain like echoes reverberating from a distant memory, “Hollywood. Which movie do you take it from? If you may help me; my memory is failing me nowadays….”

Helena responds: “You are accusing me guilty of plagiarism? I’m sorry my friend, it’s just against my policy,” She doesn’t hide her disappointment that her heartfelt expression is taken for granted by the man who supposedly returns her feeling with an equal heart-moving expression of love.

The Secret To A Good Night Sleep

The first employee to arrive at his office, Lucas reaches for the phone on his desk to start his day. “It’s been my pleasure to call you this morning,” he attempts a grin but his voice gives way to a small laughter. “You may question my motives except that this voice’s going to be the earliest phone call you receive on this date, any date hereafter; I won’t promise you. Ha-ha….”

“You’re using office phone!” Lucas hears the soft voice at the opposite line, and immediately being reminded of what he once told her: never use office phone for personal matters. Not because you can’t trust the security of office lines. It’s simply an act of corporate cheating; corruption at its infancy, he even went so far as mentioning that dirty word.